A Survivor's Game
by Hitomi Zotz
Summary: The very first ever Hunger Games is about to take place, 24 children find themselves reaped as a punishment to the surviving rebels of the Dark Days. How far is the Capitol willing to take this punishment? Will these 24 really kill for survival or call what they hope is a bluff? Who will win? And what happens when a watching public become personally attached to the competitors?
1. Chapter 1- Reaped

It was quiet, the first silence that had been known for years. Some children knew only warfare and considered it a blessing, but others, old enough to remember before the war and the reason for the violence felt only grief, bitterness and fear. The districts had fallen, the war was lost and now the horror would really begin. The deaths and injuries of battle would be nothing compared to what the Capitol would make them suffer, many were certain of it. Only a small few dared to think that even the Capitol might be weary of the death and consider leniency. Of course they were wrong.

The Dark Days were done, District 13 had fallen and as video footage showed the other now suppressed districts, it had been obliterated. They all knew they should be thankful their losses were smaller and yet most just waited expectantly for a fate worse than obliteration. They had suffered bombs and muttations and their attempts to storm the Capitol had been a pathetic and crushing failure, it was too well fortified.

Fences were built, boundaries were declared and the Peacekeepers were sent into each district, any hint of a rebellion resulted in death; any whisper of anger towards the Capitol and it was often the same. In Districts 11 and 12 there had been four collections of public hangings and two sessions of whippings. The quiet people were waiting on they soon found forced upon them, with the constant warnings displayed on the big screens that sat in the courtyards of most districts, the beatings and torture from Peacekeepers and the repeated footage of the ruined District 13 people learned that keeping their heads down and holding their tongues was best. The odd individual who thought otherwise soon found themselves made an example of, some lost their tongues and became Avoxes, people forced into muteness and servitude for being traitors, they were the lucky ones, others were battered beyond recognition and others simply disappeared.

When a few months had passed since the failed rebellion some dared to breathe a sigh of relief. When it became six months even the most sceptical began to consider that the Peacekeepers, beatings and executions were the only wrath they were going to suffer. The Capitol would eternally remind them of their failure with footage of District 13, surely it was punishment enough to be taunted in such a manner. Surely even the Capitol desired no more bloodshed.

It was a crisp cool morning when more Peacekeepers were deployed to the remaining twelve districts and began to round up the public. Announcements were played out on the speakers around the districts commanding the citizens to gather in their town centres for an important proclamation from the Capitol. Some people were curious as they went but most were fearful realising that now the punishment they had all feared was coming was finally here.

In each district a large screen was set up on a steel stand, built almost immediately after the end of the Dark Days, it usually showed either footage of the smoking heap formerly known as District 13, public executions or messages from the Capitol, usually warnings. Only District 2's screen was rarely used, that district had stayed loyal to the Capitol during the Dark Days though the other districts weren't to know it. Today the screen had been split into twelve boxes, each one showing the cluster of confused individuals from each district being herded together before this screen. They looked with puzzlement and mild surprise, many had forgotten the presence of the other districts, simply choosing to forget them as remembering them meant remembering a union that had brought them only death. It was better just to focus on your district, get up, work, go to sleep and repeat. No thoughts of the outside world, no dreams of freedom or rebellion, just keep focused on the smaller things. The fear of unity amongst the districts again was the reason for the fences about them, electric and/or barbed, and usually patrolled by Peacekeepers, they turned the districts into a form of prison, ensuring that no one got out. It was this restriction that kept any curious district members from travelling too far and helped lead to them simply forgetting each other.

Before each screen on the steel stand an individual stood beside two orbs, each orb was on a thin, plastic stand, and inside them were shreds of paper. There were Peacekeepers up there too, eight on each stand, grasping their guns tightly and watching the gathering crowds warily. It might have seemed like a small number but most people in the districts now were meek and without hope, any Peacekeeper was a threat they did not want to face, thus it did not matter how many or few of them there were.

The people found themselves segregated by impatient and mildly aggressive Peacekeepers, children on one side and adults on the other. The adults were urged on to stand before the screen in neat rows whilst the children were lined up in two single files, one of boys and one of girls, standing before a desk at which two tired looking individuals sat with a list of names before them along with a stamp, and a strange, sharp metal device with a needle attached to it. There was some confusion over some adults that looked young for their age and equally children that looked old for theirs, prompting some to be asked if they were over eighteen or not. Too puzzled to lie, those questioned answered honestly and were moved to the appropriate group.

It took over an hour for the queues of children to be dealt with in each district. The children found themselves queried their name before it was scored off, next they had to hold out their finger as the sharp metal device pricked through the skin and drew up a small offering of blood, proof that they were who they claimed to be. Those between twelve and eighteen were segregated again whilst the others were herded off to the adults.

They sun rose higher but the day remained cold and grey in most districts, cloudy with a few traces of pale, thin, white sunbeams that offered little heat. In District 12 there was a light drizzle of rain and in District 8 there was a light breeze threatening to turn stronger. On each stage the individual glanced at the screen behind them, waiting for something. Each individual was dressed in the height of Capitol fashion, all of them had eccentrically styled and coloured hair, and tinted eyelashes, three had dyed skin, one had gems on her bare arms, another had long, glittering green talons and each wore bizarre clothing, complete with puffy sleeves, or large hats, layered skirts and glittering bows. Many of the younger district members had never seen people so glamorous or strange; it was like gazing up at a glimmering alien, something odd, frightening and not quite human. Their attention was soon drawn away when the screen flashed on with the stern face of President Ivon.

President Ivon had come to power in the wake of District 13's loss, he was tough and ruthless, and rumour said that he had personally killed several members of District 13 and helped to suppress the uprising in other districts. He was middle aged with the build of a soldier and looked uncomfortable in the jade green suit he wore, his hair was thin, a greying, oily black with several small feathers carefully placed in it. His beady, cold, green eyes had gold tattoos swirled about them, adding to his eccentric appearance.

"Citizens of Panem," he addressed everyone in a cool, clear voice, "as you all know once there was a terrible uprising led by District 13 though by no means exclusive to it. We refer to this period as the Dark Days, a moment in time when our beloved Capitol was forced to deal with an inexplicable and brutal rebellion. Fortunately for all, the Capitol was successful in defeating the citizens who would see peace and prosperity threatened and the warmongering District 13 was destroyed as a result, exactly one year from today. Indeed a just punishment, but only for that district." He paused for a moment and his gaze grew sharper and every citizen felt as if their very soul was pierced by it. "That is why you have all been gathered here on this momentous today, for the first ever Reaping."

A shudder ran through some of the older members of the crowd, those who knew just how cold and cruel members of the Capitol were, those who had been waiting for this very day when the full wrath of the Capitol's vengeance finally came down upon them. "Citizens of Districts 1 to 12 you must be reminded of the Capitol's power and mercy so that you do not question it again. Every year from now on that reminder will come to you in the form of The Hunger Games."

A breath ran through several members of the public whilst some murmured in confusion and others stayed quiet in fear. The colourfully clad members on stage shifted about, some nervously, and others eager, making it clear that they all knew what was coming. When Peacekeepers gripped their guns tight and raised them instinctively it became obvious that the explanation that was coming would be far from good.

President Ivon seemed to give the people a brisk moment to digest the news before continuing on calmly, his sharp gaze never shifting or softening. "Once a year from now on, on this day the Districts 1 through 12 shall submit, by way of volunteering or lottery, a boy and a girl, between the ages of twelve and eighteen, to compete in The Hunger Games. This will be an event of great proportions, a televised spectacle which will ensure that no one shall ever consider uprising again!" His green eyes flared with a moment of passion as his voice grew louder. "It will be a battle of skill and wits but also of charm and style, a fight in an arena in which survival shall depend upon not just personal strength and power but also one's ability to win support. You see, the Capitol shall show its mercy by allowing each competitor a chance to earn the support of outsiders, the chance to give aid which could mean the difference between life and death. But," his voice grew louder as if he was aware of the growing murmurings, "there shall only be one winner. A winner who will not only bring fame for themselves and their District but also a year of rations from the Capitol, so that their entire District may share the enjoyment of victory. Now," he added swiftly, "I direct your attention to your escorts, may the Reaping begin!"

The screen flashed off as the crowds began to shriek and grumble in protest, disbelief and puzzlement. The adults were most vocal, save those who were simply in too much despair to even try, whilst the children who fell in the age group glanced about their companions in shared surprise and apprehension. In District 2 the cries were the most loud and angry, after all they had not joined the uprising, why should they suffer?

"Now, now," the District 2 escort, a male in his forties with a large, rainbow coloured Mohawk attempted to calm the crowds as he flashed them a nervous smile made of silver and crystal encrusted teeth, "consider it an opportunity to prove yourself amongst the other districts! A chance to show yourselves as the superior district!" Though his words were ignored the scowling Peacekeepers were not. There were more of them on guard here than in any other district as not only did District 2 serve as a training area for the Peacekeepers but their discord was naturally expected to be the worst. "The Capitol has rewarded you," the escort continued, "you are wealthy and well treated but nonetheless, like us all, you must obey." His words were calm but firm, few were in doubt of the threat implied by them.

"Obey?" one woman called angrily. "Oh sure, it's easy for you, there was no mention of any Capitol citizens being entered in this!" There was a single shot fired, quiet and quick it caused a red dot to bloom in the centre of her forehead. Immediately after screaming began and people started to run about in a blind panic. More gunfire was let off, though into the air this time as the escort ordered for no more fatalities as he rolled his eyes and reached for a gold microphone.

"Now citizens," he called out calmly as he smoothed down his amber and cream waistcoat with his free hand, "you will see what an honour it is to be chosen for this. The lucky two will become more famous than anyone else from this district, everyone throughout Panem will see them and root for them, I promise! They will be celebrities overnight and they will get a chance to come to the Capitol and experience its luxuries for themselves! Don't you all wish for a chance to stand out from the crowd? To stand up and prove yourself to the world? Of course you do but alas only two shall have that chance this year! Come on now, let's have no more violence, we all suffered enough of that in the Dark Days, be calm and let us begin with the Reaping!"

Whether it was his words or the threatening presence of the Peacekeepers that calmed the bulk of the crowd no one was quite sure but like sheep they copied one another and became quieter and more relaxed. They all looked to the grinning escort warily, watching as he stepped up to one of the orbs and opened it up, he then turned his attention to the screen expectantly. "Now," he said confidently, "let us see who our first ever male tribute shall be!"

The atmosphere turned tense in all the districts as the screens suddenly flashed back on, each of them showing the same image. It was District 1's smiling escort, a youthful female with ivory skin and catlike orange eyes with her hair in three plaits and striped black and white like a zebra's coat. She was reaching into the orb on the right side slowly, relishing the attention she was receiving. The camera flickered from her to a brief image of the waiting children, and then back to her as she lifted up a piece of paper, ready to condemn the first of the tributes. "Rudy Barnes!"

There was a collective gasp as all eyes tried to roll towards Rudy, instinctively several children stepped away from him like he had suddenly become a leper. The named boy was hit with a bout of shock, sweat immediately ran down his flesh until he realised that the camera had sought him out and his image was now on screen. Despite his nerves he knew he could not shame himself so publicly and so he banished them deep down and fixed a scowl on his handsome features instead. At fifteen, he was the son of the goldsmith and popular amongst his classmates for his good looks and skills in sport. He had no real close friends though as he was abrasive and somewhat violent, if not for his looks, it was widely supposed that he wouldn't be liked much at all.

"Come up here Rudy and let your future fans see you!" the female escort called out merrily as she flashed a smile in his direction.

Rudy felt instinctive hate for the woman; it was her nails and lips that had sealed his fate. He felt himself shuffling forward though, walking through the gap created for him. Every step seemed too quick and loud and when his feet finally reached the metal steps he was certain they clanged too loudly. When he reached her, despite her beckoning he made a point of keeping his distance, folding his muscular arms and turning his attention on the ground instead.

"Congratulations Rudy!" the escort cried out eagerly. "Now for our first ever female tribute!" She hurried to the second orb, anxious to take attention from the hostile male, and fished quickly for the next slip of paper. Realising the cameras were back on her and this was her precious chance to impress, she forced herself to slow down, twisting her green talons purposely slow through the scraps of paper. At last she clutched at one, pulled it out and beamed at the crowd once more. "Now, who's going to join Rudy?" She looked down at the scrap of paper and read out, "Crystal Mirrors!"

To most of the districts it sounded like a stupid name but for District 1 it was downright normal, if anything Rudy had the strange name, he was meant to have been called Ruby but an error on the birth certificate had resulted in Rudy instead. Crystal was proud of her name, in fact she was proud of most things about herself- her slender legs, her slim figure, her long, perfectly polished, golden auburn hair, her soft, silken, tanned skin, her etiquette, her ability to converse well and many other things. If anything, she found it hard to find a flaw with herself that was, until today. 'Why did it have to be my name?' she thought angrily. 'This isn't right, I shouldn't be picked for something like this, it should be Carmel or Satin, they deserve this kind of misfortune!' Even as she cursed to herself she smiled cheerfully when the camera focused in on her, it wouldn't do for her first public appearance to be a scowl like Rudy's.

She moved towards the stage with a lot more elegance than Rudy, forcing herself to act like it was an honour. 'Make them jealous,' she told herself, 'make them want this. The last thing you need is pity.' She stepped close to the escort and extended out a hand, which was accepted eagerly. Of course she quickly regretted the gesture when the escort's green talons sank into flesh, almost causing her to wince.

The screen flashed on to District 2 quickly. "And now for the tributes of District 2," the mohawk haired escort announced. He reached into the orb eagerly; his hand had been itching to do this ever since the screen had come on. It was so exciting it was almost unreal! "From District 2, our male tribute is Thorn Greendale!"

The named male immediately tensed up, just a few more days and this wouldn't have even happened, it was ridiculous! The girl beside him tensed too though she betrayed nothing on her face. He sighed and started moving forward as the crowds parted; catching the look of despair his girlfriend Tamra gave him, it made his heart sink though he tried hard not to show it. 'Two more days,' he thought to himself as he neared the stairs, 'and I'll be nineteen, two more days and I wouldn't have qualified.' He was silent and broody eyed as he reached the stage. He was tall and bulky from his work in the quarries, tanned from being out in the sun for most of the day and scarred from a few mishaps, though there were only a couple of faint pink marks on his rugged face. There was dark stubble at his chin and his chestnut brown hair was starting to grow long and wild, he was more of a man than a child, and surely too old for this.

"And now for our next tribute," the escort continued, with more cheer to his voice despite being made uneasy by the much taller Thorn. He reached into the second orb and grasped quickly at a scrap of paper. "Sukie Greendale!"

The chill that immediately filled Thorn spread throughout the crowd as stares turned shocked and then pitying. Even the escort looked surprised and then a little dismayed as his eyes searched out for the girl. The twelve-year-old who had been standing beside Thorn trembled as she felt everyone's stare fall on her.

'It can't be!' Thorn thought in alarm. 'It can't! It can't!'

No one seemed to counter the reading or suggest that having siblings was against the rules. Unknown to them the watching President Ivon smirked sadistically as he contemplated just how interesting this would make the games.

"Come on up Sukie," the escort urged as he realised the girl was hesitating.

The girl stumbled forward as someone gave her a gentle push. Nervous, she stumbled twice again as she tried to make her way to the stage and her horrified brother. Thorn could not take his eyes off the trembling young girl. Brown haired and blue eyed just like him with thick hair bordering on wavy, freckles on the nose and a dimple at the chin, their resemblance was obvious.

"There now," the escort addressed her gently, as he extended a hand to her when she neared the top of the steps.

She accepted nervously, slipping a slippery palm into his gloved hand and allowing him to pull her to stand beside her brother.

"Siblings yes?" the escort queried swiftly, aware that the cameras were still on him. He held the mike out to Thorn but only got a deep nod in response.

The camera clicked on to District 3. This escort was a middle aged man, his hair back combed, a wig that was half purple and half green with a gold stripe down the middle. He was tall, skinny like the others, and just as flamboyant. "Right, now for the tributes of District 3!" he called out smoothly, though he was slightly shaken from the cruel turn in District 2. He reached for the scrap of paper quickly, not bothering to shuffle through them. He was aware that District 2 having tributes that were related and one that was so young had caused the tension in the air to deepen. "Sparky Windles!"

The messy blonde haired boy looked up curiously as his name was called. Since the announcement he had been methodically figuring out the games, wondering what exactly they were. He had concluded that they were not just a punishment or indeed a reminder or warning, though they were all that too, but also a source of entertainment. It would be televised; people would be able to support favourites, why though? Were people in the Capitol bored? No, he suspected the entertainment was aimed as the Districts and not the Capitol; it would be to turn people, to make them come around to these games rather than start another rebellion over them. They would become hooked on it, how could they not? And some darker part of themselves might even consider it entertainment just like the president wanted.

He stepped forward, slouched over and his chin tilted down, not out of fear however but simply because he lacked posture. His hands were buried deep in his pockets and his trainers scuffed the ground lightly with each step as a loose lace threatened to trip him up. He made it up on the stage without incident however and surveyed the crowd with a listless expression.

"And District 3's female tribute," the escort began, moving rapidly to the next one. He did not relish the attention unlike District 1's escort; he just wanted to get this whole sorry business over with. Had to be thankful though that he wasn't with one of the other lower districts, that would be a little unpleasant. "Elysia Stork!"

The thirteen-year-old female looked up in surprised and fixed her round glasses close to her pointed nose. She glanced about at her friends doubtfully and saw the pitying confirmation in their eyes; she had indeed heard her own name being mentioned. One of her older brothers let out a loud and very vocal curse whilst her mother gave a gasp of horror. She took a hesitant step forward and then froze up. She was no good at games, her interest was in books, particularly maths related ones.

"Come forward girl," the escort called out with a hint of impatience to his voice.

She looked to Sparky instead; his grey gaze was elsewhere and looked bored. He had weighed up his fellow tribute almost immediately and was not impressed, whatever strategy he planned, she would not be his ally. As with Sukie she had to be pushed, and then shoved by some of the meaner children who had no sympathy for the girl but only relief for themselves. She staggered to the steps, pushing back two strands of thick, dark brown hair from her face so that she could see her way up. It took her so long to get onto the stage that the moment she put her foot down on it, the screens flashed on to District 4.

The escort there was a female in her twenties, trying hard not to show how nauseated she was by the sea air and failing. Her skin was tinged with a sickly green, her pale blue eyes gleaming with disgust and her plump lips in a pout. Realising the camera was on her, she attempted to compose herself, scowling once more when a seagull squawked loudly just as she was about to speak. "District 4's male tribute shall be," she began dramatically as she ruffled about in the orb without looking.

"I volunteer!" The bold voice caused a sudden silence, ceasing murmurs of disgust, fear and anger. "I volunteer," the voice repeated again, louder this time.

The camera found him as children were quick to step away, afraid of being punished for his outspoken manner. "It's allowed isn't it?" he queried sardonically.

The escort was hesitant as she glanced at the male, unsure what to say. Was this supposed to happen? Was it allowed?

"The president did say by way of volunteering or lottery, well I'm volunteering." The sixteen-year-old male looked at the escort challengingly, he was average height but still growing, a little gangly though his body was starting to smooth into a swimmer's body. It was only the past year that he had taken up swimming as a sport rather than a necessity, having previously devoted his time to fishing with his father on their boat in the cove. Naturally, there was a large steel fence from the ocean floor to ten feet above the waves' surface preventing any boats from going too far out to sea. He pushed back some of his floppy, coffee brown streaked, black hair and stepped forward. His skin was a smooth golden brown, hereditary though the sun had helped darken it too, giving him a couple of brown sunspots along his arms, which were bare now, like his hairy legs.

"What are you doing Basil?" his father snapped angrily as he pushed through the crowd of adults roughly so that he could face his son. "You idiot!"

Several Peacekeepers stepped down, immediately blocking the man's attempts to reach his son. He looked at them in despair and anger and growled out, "that's my son!"

"Er...what's your name?" the escort questioned anxiously.

"Basil Vega," he answered confidently.

The escort sighed, well aware that all eyes were on her now waiting for a decision. "We have a volunteer!" she forced herself to shout excitedly. "Come forward then Basil!"

He wore a loose t-shirt, shorts and flat shoes, dressing for comfort rather than style. His escort was visibly disgusted by his attire and even more by the fish smell that hung on him, scenting it when he was at the bottom of the stairs. Not wanting to endure the fishy smell for long, or the awkwardness this unexpected turn of events had caused the escort was quick in babbling, "and now for our female tribute!" She reached for a slip of paper and cursed when it slipped from her fingers. She reached for another but felt her nails tear through it. 'Third time lucky,' she thought to herself. "Silver Rivers!" she called out triumphantly.

The icy eyed seventeen-year-old looked up with a subdued anger. She started walking before the crowds even parted, forcing the camera to swing wildly in an attempt to focus in on her. She was just a couple of inches smaller than Basil, pretty though not as lovely as Crystal, her beauty was more flawed and natural. She was not as tanned as Basil, and so the freckles on her cheeks were a little more visible, her eyes were a blue so pale they were almost clear, narrow and focused, it was obvious they did not miss much. She had an hourglass figure and was muscular from morning jogs by the beach, favouring running over swimming. She glanced at Basil curiously, wondering like everyone else why the Hell he had volunteered. Just as curious, the camera focused in on him once more, lingering on him as long as it had on the Greendale siblings before the screen flickered on to District 5.

This escort was hitting forty, a female with a wig that was pink with purple spots and almost clownish, with nails in the same coral shade and lipstick the same shade of lilac, her powdered white face, and heavily smudged and glittering blue eyelids did little to ease her garish appearance. She was looking at the screen in shock, still surprised by Basil volunteering, and only drew her attention away when a Peacekeeper gave a none too subtle cough. She gave an embarrassed giggle before plunging her hand into an orb without a word. Only when she produced a female's name did she realise her error. Knowing she could not put it back in without an outcry she instead announced quickly, "and the District 5 female tribute is Swift Brenhart!"

At first there was a mumble of confusion as the camera swung from boys to girls and people's stares followed suite as the district members had been watching the young males expectantly. At thirteen Swift was just a child, small even for her age, with a slightly plump face that had yet to completely lose its puppy fat, tight, light brown curls and large, wide, blue eyes, she was almost cherubic in appearance. She looked about questioningly as her mother started to sob and her grandmother became hysterical.

"Come on darling," the escort cooed, eager to hurry on from this disastrous district reaping, "come on up."

Swift hurried forward on large feet waiting for her legs to grow into them, making a point to pause and fix the red bow at her chest. Her mother always stressed the importance of looking presentable. When she reached the stage she paused to look about in bewilderment, blinking quickly as she did.

"And now for the male tribute," the escort remarked loudly as she hunted through the next orb, "Simon Jackson!"

The sixteen-year-old looked up with a moody glance and visibly scowled at the children looking his way. He had dark auburn hair, enchanting grey-green eyes and pleasing good looks that had earned him several girlfriends over the past couple of years as he had seemed to improve with age. Unlike Rudy his hostility was not a permanent fixture, as it was he had been in a bad mood since this morning, a result of one of his father's beatings, brought about due to his sobering from his Frenz addiction. Frenz was an expensive drug, smuggled amongst District 5 illegally; it gave the user a hallucinogenic high that most people thought was worth almost anything, even killing over. At the end of the Dark Days the drug had grown in popularity as many people had simply wanted to forget their crushing failure and losses. Simon's mother had been one of those losses, killed in an airstrike a year and three months ago.

He stepped forward and considered morbidly that at least now he could escape his brutish father and the boring school life he had been subjected to, an education that was pointless as he, like so many other district members, would only wind up working in one of the power plants anyway. When he reached the stage he gave Swift a sympathetic glance when he caught her eye.

The screens, as expected, flickered on to District 6. A travelling district, it was rare for there to be such a silence in it, but for today all transport had ground to a halt within the district and there were no vehicles to be heard. As one of the largest districts it seemed to have twice as many children as the other districts, save 7, and three times as many as 5. The escort for here was an uninterested male who up until now had been smoking a long, thin, amber pipe with a large, round end, out of which purple smoke had floated. He stood upright, having been leaning against an orb, smoothed out his red jacket, which shone with two long, silk panels on either side, and opened the orb. "Now for District 6's male tribute," he said, taking care to emphasise 'male'. He made an attempt to hunt through the scraps of paper unlike some of predecessors, before pulling one out. "Ferdinand Bell!" he announced loudly.

The named male was fifteen, grubby cheeked with oil stained clothes he had spent his life under one car, van or other, apprenticing as a mechanic under his father. His father was so good at his job that he was often personally selected to fix and build transport for the Capitol itself, and as a result Ferdinand had seen many interesting materials and fixtures. He scratched at his nose absentmindedly before shrugging and walking forward as the crowd parted for him. He wore a backwards, red baseball cap, a worn, stained, green t-shirt with a picture of a spanner on it that was almost lost beneath oil; baggy, stained jeans and heavy, black boots almost lost beneath his jeans. Freckly and swarthy with a mop of dirty fair hair and large, hazel eyes, he looked like it had been weeks since his last bath. He stepped up on the stage and offered out an oily hand that the escort forced himself to take, though he could not hide his revulsion.

He looked at his now stained palm before taking the mike with it and reaching into the second orb. "And the female tribute," he said, with an irritated edge to his voice now, "is Velvet Diego!"

Lean, tough and a bit of a tomboy, Velvet showed some of Basil's enthusiasm as she looked up with a tight smile. She hurried forward, pausing at the end of the crowd to shoot the other children a positive grin before continuing up on to the platform. There she waved at everyone before standing beside Ferdinand and placing her hands on her wide, bony hips.

District 7 was shown next, its male escort was actually glad to be there, savouring the strong odour of pine and oak that surrounded them. He had a smile that almost seemed too big for his face, a pair of large, amber tinted sunglasses with thick, turquoise frames, which covered almost all of the top half of his face and short spiked hair, a pale blue in colour with silver glitter sprinkled through it. He savoured in another deep breath of the fresh, clean air before reaching into the orb. "The male tribute for District 7 is Talbot Green!"

The named tribute looked uneasy but it was hard for him to hide as he towered at six foot three, all muscle he had been skilled with an axe from youth, learning to fell trees right from the cradle, of course most of his early years had been spent as an observer. He had a mop of shaggy, blonde streaked, brown hair, tanned, muscular skin with several scars and worried looking, large, puppy dog like green eyes. He sighed heavily before trudging forward slowly to meet his destiny; he was not angry like Rudy and Simon but rather fearful like Thorn, albeit for different reasons.

The escort just managed to halt himself from frowning as he saw the nerves in the fifteen-year-old, it would not do for publicity for him to be shown so fearful. He hurried to reach out the name of the female tribute and began announcing it before Talbot had even set his foot down on the stage. "And the female tribute is Tempest Clarks!"

The sixteen-year-old arched a curious brown eyebrow and pursed her plump lips. 'Well it had to be someone,' she thought to herself coldly as she started elbowing her way forward.

The escort grinned at the girl's enthusiasm; she was shoving her way up before her companions had even registered where the named tribute was. Buck toothed and muscular with a frizzy, dark brown plait that was threatening to come undone, Tempest was no beauty but she looked tough and the no-nonsense expression on her face made the escort fill with glee. 'This girl has guts,' he thought approvingly. He was quick to take her hand and shake it enthusiastically, ignoring her obvious reluctance to shake his back. She openly scowled at the escort just before the screen flashed on to District 8.

The opposite of District 7 in many ways, the air was rife with pollution here, the sky almost lost to smog and no hint of nature in any direction. The population was as starved and ragged looking as the people of Districts 10, 11, and 12, most of the people looked grubby, their hair dyed and their palms worn and stained, hardened from numerous needle pricks. This was a textile district, recently specialising in making Peacekeeper uniforms, having a factory solely dedicated to that purpose.

The escort had a wig of glittering gold and a waistcoat to match with eyes patterning it made from studded jewels and glass, and two large boots covered in straps and buckles. A male, he was middle aged, his face powdered white, his eyes etched in red and orange shadows, and a curling beard of dyed green starting to grow. He wrinkled his nose before plunging his hand deep into the orb, reaching down as far as he could before grasping at a piece of paper and pulling it up. He coughed curtly before announcing in a loud, polite manner, "and the male tribute reaped from District 8 is Bartley Pane."

Bartley glanced up from his blue and green dyed hands and then looked down at his palms again; they were still not used to the damage from dying and stitching and bore a criss-cross of scars and healing cuts. He shuffled forward only when a male beside him gave him a nudge, rubbed his palms in vain and then shoved them into his pockets. As he reached the front of the crowd his mother let out a sharp sob and turned to be consoled by her sister. Bartley was an only child, and the only reminder of his father who had passed last year during the bitter winter, a victim of sickness rather than the Dark Days. He had just turned fourteen a month ago, an underwhelming experience, he had not even had the day off work, now it suddenly seemed momentous as he realised he might not see his next birthday. As he stepped onto the stage and looked at the crowd vacantly he wondered why he hadn't bothered to make more of an effort to celebrate it.

"And the female tribute reaped from District 8 is Cadence Martez," the escort announced. Bugged by the stench of pollution the escort had forgone an effort to create anticipation by rushing to pick the next tribute.

The lithe, honey skinned girl looked up quickly at the sound of her name and grinned bitterly. Up until now she had only been half-listening to what was going on, anxious to head home and continue on with her painting. Just a second ago she had been deciding what colours to use for the background until her name had been called out. She muttered a curse, now her work would go unfinished, well for a time. She clenched her fists together, swung her shoulders back and strode forward boldly, this was only a delay, a minor irritation, she would just bite her tongue and get through it as quickly as possible.

Bartley's hazel eyes widened slightly and fixed in on Cadence, she was widely known as one of the beauties of District 8, easily one of the hottest girls in his school in fact and it sent his heart pumping to see her coming up to stand beside him. Her hands remained delicate despite the work they had suffered and her nails were immaculate as she laboured hard each night to fix fresh chips, her skin was smooth and scrubbed daily and nightly of stains, and her hair hung loose. Cadence always wore her hair up and under a net in the factory but at school she kept it free and in its natural waves, knowing how well it enhanced the beauty of her face.

The camera lingered on the eighteen-year-old female briefly before the screen flicked on to District 9.

Known as Panem's 'bread bowl' District 9 seemed to exist just for grain, every family had at least two members who were involved in caring for or harvesting the grain in one role or another and there were several factories just for grain processing. Naturally winter and spring were the harshest months, as District 9 was not producing then it was not receiving much either as rations were cut and many people died of hunger. Despite having many fields it managed to be quite urban, overrun with factories and closely built houses, built up rather than out.

The escort was a female, young, she could have been beautiful but had gone for weird instead, her eyelashes were long and dyed green, blue and purple, fluffed out to resemble feathers, they matched the peacock tail feathers weaved through her long, black and purple hair. She flashed a small smile at the crowd, the tenth one she had given them, giggled awkwardly and then sank her hand into the orb and gave a show of moving it about. "And now," she said, putting on an air of dramatics, "the male tribute of District 9 is..." She paused purposely, savouring her moment in the limelight before plucking out a piece of paper. She looked at her audience, raised the mike slowly and at last announced, "Gavin Hunter!"

Short and plump cheeked from youth, the freckle faced male gave a gasp of alarm. Thirteen years old, he was thin and waiting for his limbs to grow, his skin was milky white, his cheeks pockmarked from disease and his right eye half-shut permanently. If one had to bet so far on who was likely to die first, chances were most votes would and should be on this newly announced tribute. Gavin tripped when he started to walk forward, saved from falling thanks to the intervention of a friend, who was quick to release him as if he had just remembered Gavin was infectious. He was proud that his legs did not quake when he reached the stage but he could not stop the sweat that suddenly raced down him or his hurried breathing.

The escort shot him a cold smile and waited for what felt like an eternity before at last turning her attention to the second orb. "And the female tribute of District 9 is..." Again she gave another lengthy pause for dramatic effect. "Star Pinark!"

Bony, flat chested and caught between adulthood and childhood, the haughty female openly scowled when her name was read out. Her skin was a milky brown, her hair long, dark and into two plaited pigtails making her look younger than her sixteen years. She spent most of the year out tending and harvesting the grain, daydreaming of doing anything else as she hated being outdoors. She waited for the crowds to part and then walked up slowly, if the escort could annoy everyone with a slow pace then so could she. She held back a grin when she saw the look of impatience she was receiving as she neared the stage. She hesitated at the stairs deliberately before ascending them at a sluggish pace.

Impatient, the screen did not wait for Star to reach the stage and instead skipped on to District 10. Despite being a district for livestock, the people of District 10 were amongst the poorer and hungrier of the population, better off than Districts 11 and 12 but marginally worse than the others. Those who attempted to hoard or hide any kind of food met with the strictest of punishments, as in the case of other districts the rule was simple- Serve the Capitol. Naturally the Capitol demanded the best of everything and in great quantities- meat, eggs, milk etc, little was left for the districts' own population.

The escort there was in a foul mood, first she had stepped in cow dung, then she had to endure passing a group of foul smelling pigs and now she had had to wait here in a drizzle. She was eager to get the whole business over with so she could flee back to the Capitol and hopefully never see this place again. She did not hesitate in snatching the first scrap of paper her fingers reached and muttered into the mike, "Ranger Penton."

The children muttered some approval and praise for the named tribute as he folded his arms and looked contemplative. His gaze was just hidden under his messy, spiked down fringe and he made no attempt to show it as he finally unfolded his arms and started walking forward. Tall, he was still short compared to Talbot at six foot, he was known as a pleasant but quiet young man who spent most of his time in the slaughterhouse. Though he took no pleasure in his work he did hold a certain pride in it, after all making a kill was a triumph, even if it was in confined spaces. Loathing how his prey was defenceless he had made an effort to go to the wild edges of the district to seek out freer prey and had succeeded in killing rabbits, fowl and even a hare, alas his biggest kill was only a coyote, sneaked into the district before the barriers had been set up it had survived on scraps and was a gangly thing.

"Gabby Rownly." The escort snapped out the female's name the moment Ranger stepped onto the stage.

Like Sukie, Gabby was just twelve; in fact she was younger than Sukie by three months, two weeks and a day making her the youngest tribute so far. She let out a sound half a gasp and a half a sob before shaking her head in protest. "No," she squeaked out.

"NO!" Her mother's horrified howl was louder.

"Go...go on Gabby," her older sister Margaret stammered out as tears pricked at her blue-grey eyes.

Gabby glanced up at her sister in surprise but Margaret refused to look back down at her.

"NO!" Her mother repeated as she shook against her husband's restraining grasp violently.

Margaret gave her sister a forceful shove and cursed herself for the sliver of relief that crept through her grief.

Gabby let herself be pushed to the front, wary of the stares of relief and pity that surrounded her. She was a pathetic, cute looking child with curly, brown hair and wide, blue-grey eyes; a large, red bow sat on top of her hair and in one hand she clutched a battered looking, brown rabbit teddy with a matching bow at its throat. She stumbled past the escort who didn't even bother to look at her and found herself in Ranger's shadow.

Ranger reached out a hand to the girl and she grasped at it tightly, he gave her hand a gentle squeeze though he acknowledged how futile his comfort was. 'Only one winner,' he thought to himself grimly, 'this is the last time Gabby and I will both be in District 10.'

District 11 had heavy storm clouds building overhead casting the crowd in a grim shadow. The male escort had tried to combat the obvious mood with a few encouraging smiles before giving up and turning his attention completely to the screen. Now that eyes were back on him, he turned back to the crowd with a winning smile and remarked brightly, "what a selection of tributes so far! Let's see who District 11 will match them with!" He bounced over to the male's orb, showing a surprising burst of energy before sticking his hand in and rooting around eagerly. He pulled out a scrap of paper at last and announced chirpily, "the brave male of District 11 is Dixon Yugaro!"

Just fourteen, the olive skinned male looked malnourished and his soft, brown eyes were sunken in his skull. Like District 9, District 11 found itself heavily restricted, always reminded that the Capitol received first. An agricultural district, it was the largest in Panem and usually the warmest, providing the bulk of food for the country, it had many fields and plots, but for all its bounteous quantities of crops the district members often found themselves close to starvation as they were allowed to eat very little. Dixon slouched as he started to walk forward, considering the same thing as Tempest, that it had to be someone. He recalled who had been selected so far, paying almost as much attention as Sparky, the males from Districts 1, 2 and 7 looked like the biggest threats, 4 was a wildcard and 10 had potential whilst the young girls from 2 and 10 and the male from 9 were easily the weakest. The girl from 1 had seemed confident and the one from 7 was vicious, whilst the ones from 3 and 5 were also young, so far the girls had appeared to have gotten a bad batch.

"And now for the brave female of District 11," the escort announced, he hunted through the second orb with a grin before reading out, "Mallory Banks!"

A bony beauty, Mallory would have been stunning if better fed, her hair was a straight, black bob, her nose petite, her cheeks well shaped though too hollow and her eyes catlike and seductive, with lashes curled up at the corners and irises a bright, chocolate brown. She was almost seventeen and the tallest of the females so far, at six foot she was the same height as Ranger, skinny as a rake with worn knuckles and bruised knees; she spent most of her time in the orchards. She stuck her chin up and strode forward purposely; appearing as calm as she could though she could not resist digging her nails into her palms causing red crescents to appear on them. She stepped up onto the stage lithely with a cool look, ignoring the escort's helpful hand and taking a stance with an obvious space between her and Dixon. She and Dixon did not know each other, in fact until now she had not even known his name, now they were rivals, thrust into the Capitol's latest game, a literal one this time that promised bloodshed. She vowed to herself to be ruthless, she would trust no one and survive how she could.

At last the screens fell to District 12 where the rain was now pouring down in loud, heavy drops. The escort was happy to be sheltered by a white roof above the stage, he and the Peacekeepers lingering near him were the only ones to be so fortunate, the populace of the district were now thoroughly soaked and fed up. The escort found himself forced to shout into his microphone to be audible over the rain and even then his voice still sounded distorted. "And finally," he announced, "the last male tribute, come up Nicky Benstrom!"

The thirteen-year-old spat onto the ground and mumbled a curse before he started moving forward without looking up. A coal miner, his cheeks were smudged black and his brown hair permanently stained, he was naturally fair though it was impossible to tell thanks to the stains, with small, beady, dark blue eyes and a rather pointed nose. He trudged up quickly, his boots squelching with each step, and squeaking on the steps. Wet and cold he was glad to see the farce ended even if this was the outcome.

"And our last tribute of the first ever Hunger Games, please join us Skylar West!"

The girl sighed and thought to herself, 'that's it then, they've called me.' She had been hearing it ever since they had started calling tributes out in District 1, in fact in a way she had expected it. She had always been unlucky in life why should that change now? Orphaned since the Dark Days, during which she had lost both her parents and brothers, she had moved in with her sister-in-law and four screaming nephews and nieces, day and night they kept her up with their screams and cries. To help keep them fed Skylar had been forced to forgo education for work, holding down three jobs, sleep was so rare she had almost forgotten what it was.

She moved forward swiftly, eager to get out of the rain and under the shelter of the stage, as she climbed up the steps she wondered how her sister-in-law would cope without her. 'The kids will starve,' she realised as she stepped beside Nicky.

The screen turned off at last and the escorts took the opportunity to announce their District's tributes once more before ushering them off the stage. Instead of getting a chance to see their family or friends, the tributes found themselves herded off into a building and a guarded room, separated from each other and everyone else. There they waited before loved ones were finally granted a chance to visit for one final time.

* * *

_I made up the drug Frenz just because I didn't want to use Morphling, though it might well have been commonly used. Most info from the books and film naturally, and a good bit from THG wikia, which in turn uses The Tributes' Guide as a source, so I guess that's how accurate my description of District 9 etc is.  
__No mentors since this is meant to be the very first Hunger Games, as it's a fanfic I will take some liberties and I can't be sure how accurate some things are though I do, do my best, for example, I'm thinking the escorts probably substituted for mentors until there were enough mentors to go around._


	2. Chapter 2-Glittering Lambs for Slaughter

"We're making history here," Quinn Rample remarked boastfully as she walked down a brightly lit corridor. The thirty-two-year-old had been as excited as a person on their birthday ever since she had been picked to be a Gamemaker; her only qualm was that she was not Head Gamemaker. That prestigious title went to the man she currently followed behind, the quiet Titus Copper. At just twenty-five Quinn and a few others considered him too young for the job but that was the only argument they could give, it was the first time anyone would hold the position so no one could debate about experience.

"I've come up with a new idea as well," Quinn bragged, "one which I know President Ivon will love."

"What's that then?" Gaius Holden grumbled moodily. He was walking on Quinn's right side, at thirty years old until now he had been an architect, brought on board specifically to design the arena. In truth it was not a job he relished unlike Quinn, privately Gaius considered the whole sordid affair cruel but he was sensible enough not to voice his opinions or reject the job offer.

Quinn beamed at him, flashing a tooth with a tiny ruby on it. "A ceremony," she commented happily, "but you will have to wait to hear more, I want the President's approval first." She looked at Titus' back pointedly and wished the man would walk quicker. The three Gamemakers were on the way to see the president answering to his anxious summons. The tributes had just been picked and would soon be on their way to the Capitol, the president was eager to hear that everything was going according to plan. Titus had watched the Reaping thoughtfully, his sombre expression barely changing, though Quinn was certain she had spotted a spark in the man's dull brown eyes once or twice.

The end of the corridor appeared at last and two stern looking Peacekeepers were there to greet them, they wore clunky grey armour and helmets with blue visors, a prototype armour the original designer was already talking about changing it, discussing a smoother white version of the armour with his stylists. They nodded approvingly at Titus and stepped back from the steel door to grant him and his companions entry. Titus placed his palm up against a black box to the right of the door and waited for it to scan, the President was tight on security, even going so far as to put the Peacekeepers through drills involving assassination and invasion attempts. Most people were certain another rebellion would never happen but the President was not one of them, it was one of the reasons why he had invented The Hunger Games, he wanted the Districts to always be reminded of their failure, to continually be punished for it and to fear ever doing it again. He wanted them always to suffer for ever daring to question their superiors.

The door opened and the president's cool voice called out, "enter Gamemakers."

Titus led the way in at a slow walk; he paused when he was standing before the older man, who was in the centre of an extravagant looking suite gazing up at a screen built from the ceiling to the floor currently displaying the images of the chosen twenty-four. The suite oozed of wealth and taste, Ivon was known for being a stylish and extravagant man, for him appearances were everything.

"Quite a batch," Ivon remarked sharply, making it impossible to tell if he approved or not. "I do not think a winner is clear yet, which is good, I don't want the games to be over before they have begun." He paused and gave the trio a warning look. "The people must be entertained, all the people, even those in the districts these tributes were reaped from. I want people betting on them, helping and hindering them how they can, I want their escorts out there selling their names and reputation, this is a game, a sport, and I want people treating it as such. Make them attached to the tributes, make them fond of them, but don't make them love them," his voice became deeper and angrier, "we do not need matyrs, we need sacrifices."

Titus nodded calmly. "We understand," he answered politely as his brown eyes flickered up to the screen. "People will be their fans, they will want to pay money to help them and they will, but we will make these tributes work for it, they will entertain for their survival as well as fight for it. A simple bloodbath would be easy but would incite only grief, this offers hope, any one of them might win if the odds are in their favour."

The president nodded eagerly. "That's it exactly," he answered approvingly, "cull their children blindly and we will only plant a bitter seed that their hate could nourish into another rebellion but pair them against each other and give them a chance at hope, a possibility of survival for all of them until the very end, by which time the only hate they might bear will be for those who killed their children, the children of other Districts. It will keep them all divided, and prevent any future rebellions."

"President Ivon," Quinn chirped up brightly, "I had an idea."

"Yes." The president looked at the younger woman with interest. Quinn had been picked for being innovative and ambitious and had been in the entertainment business since her twenties. An attractive yet eccentric looking woman she was thin to the point of being bony thanks to the trend of purging, which was rising in popularity within the Capitol.

"We need an opening ceremony," she remarked gleefully as she grasped her fair hands together, "something to reintroduce our tributes, and something to garner interest in them from potential sponsors as well. I was thinking a parade, two tributes side by side in district order, each of them representing their districts."

Ivon nodded approvingly. "That sounds like a good plan; perhaps they could represent their districts literally. Most of them are bound to be grubby things without decent clothes, I ordered their escorts to see them properly washed and attired, but I think they shall have stylists too."

Quinn clapped her hands and nodded rapidly. "Oh yes," she squealed, "that would perfect. Yes, they shall be dressed in representation of their districts; we will have a show that no one has ever seen before."

"You will have two days to prepare for it," the president decided, "two days then I want the ceremony to take place, after that they will train."

"Together," Titus remarked, "we have almost finished setting up the Training Room, they will not be allowed to fight with each other of course but instead can spar with staff but they will train and dine together, I think it will give a chance for both alliances and rivalries to develop. Then they will get a chance to perform before the Gamemakers and we will rate them on their abilities."

"Excellent," Ivon commented approvingly, "they will have three days, any longer and we risk too many friendships developing amongst them or them becoming too adept at everything, I want them to have weaknesses."

Titus nodded again in agreement. "They will be well fed too while they are here, we would like the more malnourished ones to be less disadvantaged when they enter the arena although there is only so much muscle and fat that can develop in such a short time limit. I fear the tributes from Districts 1 and 2 may last longer simply because there are not as aware of hunger as the others."

"Not if the escorts do their jobs well enough," the president remarked with just a tinge of anger to his voice, "and I fear some of them won't," he grumbled, "the fools from Districts 4 and 5 must be replaced." He little appreciated Titus' comment that people in the districts were hungry, it was their own fault, they had chosen to rebel and bring this miserable fate upon themselves.

"Cim and Clara," Gaius commented, speaking for the first time. There was a degree of surprise to his voice, he knew the pair only by name but did not think them deserving of replacement, the blonde haired male was in no doubt as to what that meant.

Ivon shrugged carelessly, he was not concerned with the escorts' names. "One let a volunteer through as tribute, in later games that would be acceptable but for the first one I wanted only people chosen against their will, a lesson must be learned here, that anyone can be chosen, that the districts do not have the choice, that only the Capitol does."

"Shall we disqualify him on a technicality?" Quinn suggested nervously as she pushed back a curl of her naturally fiery hair. Quinn and Titus were easily the most normal looking of the small group, for a Capitol member Titus was downright mundane whilst Quinn opted for looking smart and edgy rather than weird. The woman knew enough to know that Ivon had a high interest in fashion, and so she still did her best to impress though she opted for the latest prim look rather than extravagant.

"No," Ivon's answer was abrupt and firm, "let him play in the Games, I'm certain he will be made an example of in there, a sign that volunteer or not it makes no difference, there can only be one winner."

"The escorts will be dealt with," Titus assured calmly, "the ceremony will be ready for two days' time, the training shall follow for three days and then The Hunger Games will begin. We will have a show the world has never seen before, the birth of a reminder of the Capitol's power but also its mercy, after all we do not have to give them a winner."

Ivon looked at Titus with a glimmer of pride. "Exactly," he said. This was why he had personally chosen Titus to be Head Gamemaker, though rumours suggested other reasons, the young man was intelligent, methodical and he got it, he understood better than anyone why the Games had to take place.

Quinn frowned, unhappy to have her limelight so quickly stolen; the ceremony had been her idea after all. Ivon, Titus and Gaius all turned their attention to the screen of tributes. Gaius looked at each of them with pity, soon all but one would be dead, all of them taken too young because of an unforgiving and paranoid man. Titus' gaze focused on the siblings Thorn and Sukie, their reaping was a tragic but interesting turn of events, it would certainly pull in the viewers and probably the sympathetic sponsors too, he then flickered his stare onto the volunteer Basil and wondered if the cocky young man would gain or lose sponsors due to his arrogance. The Gamemaker's brown gaze drifted to District 4's female tribute Silver, her silvery-blue stare was almost lethal it was so cold. 'I wonder if Basil's arrogance will hurt her winning favour,' he pondered dryly, 'sponsors might like or dislike her simply out of association.'

* * *

Sabine, the escort for District 1, looked at her charges with displeasure as she herded them into the newly built Training Centre; it was a skyscraper of gigantic proportions with a floor for each district, an underground gymnasium complete with training centres and an in-progress garden on the rooftop, which was currently non-accessible.

Crystal looked up at the tower with a disguised interest, in truth the Capitol had her in awe but she would be damned if she showed it. 'I won't be seen as a bumpkin,' she thought to herself as she subdued her wide, emerald stare. Instead she walked on into the building hastily, missing out on the sights of strange billboards, wonderfully and weirdly attired people, other tall and strange buildings and stylish lampposts, fountains and statues that she had never seen the like of before. Better missing out on seeing the new things than gawking at them like an idiot.

Rudy's lack of interest was sincere as he stomped forward with a scowl. The handsome blonde had not smiled since his name was called out, and despite Sabine's urging for him to make an effort and grin at the public trying to spy him through the train's windows he had not even tried. He did not want their admiration; frankly he couldn't care less what they thought of him. What did it matter if he was liked or unliked? As long as he was quick enough and strong enough it would have no real bearings in the Games, he was certain of it.

Crystal flung back her golden auburn hair and gave a wide smile to the guards at the door, batting her eyelids as she did. One rewarded her with a small smile that vanished when his partner gave him a disapproving look. 'I'll charm them all,' she vowed to herself as Sabine took the lead, guiding them into the lift, 'and make them want me as their winner.' The lift was a box of bronze mirrors with fourteen jewelled buttons for each floor, including the off limits rooftop. As Sabine pressed the button and the polished bronze doors started to shut the District 2 tributes arrived.

Thorn caught a quick glimpse of Rudy's scowl and Crystal's frosty but curious green stare before the doors shut. Despite their district being closest Thorn and his sister had to wait a little longer than expected to be transported to the Capitol as the district tributes were required to arrive in order for appearance's sake. The eighteen-year-old had yet to stop feeling nauseous and had thrown up once on the train. It was not travel sickness of course but rather the knowledge that his twelve-year-old sister was soon going to be thrown into an arena of violence and death in which either she or he would die. He had vowed to himself while saying farewell to his sobbing mother that he would protect Sukie and ensure that she lived. He would fight until it was just the pair of them left and if the Capitol did not show any sympathy to their plight then he would kill himself and see her to victory. She was just twelve, she deserved to have her whole life in front of her, he would be nineteen in two days, he had reached adulthood.

Their escort Tiberius Flickerman was too excited to show sympathy for the pair, at first he had tried to feign it but neither of the siblings had been convinced. In truth he was delighted to have siblings for tributes, it meant all interest should be on them and him, if he did a good enough job he might even get a promotion. He was in his forties after all and being an escort just wasn't appealing, he would rather be in with the real action, perhaps a Gamemaker or a presenter.

He ran his fingers through his rainbow mohawk for the umpteenth time, a habit that was beginning to drive Thorn crazy, and then all but bounced forward towards a second lift. There were five lifts in all, plenty to ensure there were no expected run-ins amongst tributes and that no one was late for the communal training and lunch.

"Everyone will be watching you pair," Tiberius enthused.

"You've said," Thorn retorted flatly. He was gripping his sister's hand tightly and had been since they had gotten off the train.

Tiberius glanced over his shoulder with disapproving grey eyes and flashed him a biting smile. "The more support you garner the longer you will survive," he reminded him before turning round and hitting the button for the lift.

"One of us will die though," Sukie choked out. Until now the young girl had been silent, caught between fear, disbelief and even awe. The Capitol was something she couldn't even dream of, too wild and exciting to imagine, and too bright and colourful for her to take in. No matter how much she looked about the surprise never left, there was always something new to catch her eye.

Thorn gave her hand a tight squeeze but said nothing, what could he say?

"Twenty-three of you will die," was Tiberius' practical and calm answer as the lift doors opened.

Thorn frowned at his back, loathing the escort that little bit more. The man was heartless and obviously fame obsessed, Thorn was disgusted by him.

It was twenty minutes later that the District 3 escort led the next set of tributes into their suite. He was as flamboyant as ever, having swapped his wig a total of six times on the train and changing three times, uncertain as to what would look best for the public. Sparky and Elysia had been less concerned about appearances, though Elysia had made an attempt brush her hair to please her grandparents, sadly her dark brown bob had remained as frizzy and uneven as ever. Whilst Elysia had given the curious crowds a small wave and looked about in a daze, Sparky had been shockingly outgoing, waving and grinning. Their escort had been too concerned with his own looks to even notice the sudden change in his charge, nor noticed how quickly the blonde had resumed silence and disinterest once they were out of sight of the crowds. Whilst Elysia had looked around everything with the kind of wide eyed interest only a child could possess, Sparky had instead carefully studied and took note of their surroundings. Now they were in the suite he did the same.

"You can relax now," their escort Ves commented cheerfully as he sat down on one of the plush, crimson seats. He gestured to the generous spread of food on the long, mahogany table before them. "Eat," he suggested, "though not too much or you'll get bloated."

Elysia looked to Sparky but he did not glance her way. Deciding to take a risk, the girl crept forward to the table and reached out a hand gingerly to a scone, almost as if she was afraid of it biting her.

Their floor consisted of several rooms, the dining room they were in now, a living room attached to it, and three bedrooms with ensuite bathrooms. Each floor had the same plan though they all had different furniture, carpets, rugs, wallpaper and paintings. Without waiting for approval Sparky wandered off to study the rooms. He found the bedrooms both with king-sized beds, four pillows, six cushions, a duvet and a blanket, one was coloured in blues and greens whilst the other was pinks and purples, both with matching carpets and wallpapers, and the third was sealed off. He noted that there was a remote, which after some testing, he realised was for changing the decor of the room, conjuring images of the Capitol, woods, a lake, a foreign city, a sunset and strange, flickering, green lights in a night sky, onto the walls. Though he would not admit it even to himself he was transfixed by the waving green smudges in the night sky, and left the setting on in what he assumed to be his own room before continuing with his searching.

It was thirty minutes after this that the District 4 tributes finally arrived, later than planned thanks to a switch in escorts at the train station. Basil and Silver had watched coolly as their female escort had been taken away by two Peacekeepers and another, slightly nervous and babbling male had come to take her place. Tall and lanky with red spiked hair and swirling blue tattoos around his chin, he had introduced himself as Antonius. He said little else; probably afraid to go the way of his predecessor, but instead shot Basil curious glances and looked on the verge of saying something to the sixteen-year-old.

Basil had received the best reception from the crowds, easily the most intrigued looks and loudest cheers; it was obvious that they loved the volunteer. It was infuriated President Ivon, who was watching footage of the reception to the tributes at the train station on his large screen in his suite, but Titus assured him that it was good to have such interest. It meant that not only would plenty of people be watching the games but that they would be sponsoring it too, they just had to ensure that the other tributes were promoted heavily so that Basil did not get all the support.

Silver had not been happy to be in Basil's limelight, neither smiling nor scowling, she had faced the crowds calmly, scrutinising them with her grey-silver stare. Most already believed that whatever the support the seventeen-year-old found would be Basil's leftovers. On the train Basil had seemed almost happy and a little eccentric, Silver had made a little effort to speak him but when he had refrained from admitting why he had volunteered her attitude towards him had frosted slightly.

"Don't they live well here," Basil commented loudly and sardonically as they arrived in the shadow of the Training Centre. "Nice food, good, clean transport and from the looks of it, large accommodation."

"Well what did you expect?" Silver retorted sarcastically.

Antonius glanced over his shoulder disapprovingly at the pair but said nothing, instead he quickened his pace. The sooner they were indoors the better, less people to hear their disrespectful conversation. 'Why did I have to be picked to escort the volunteer?' he thought moodily. 'Too much attention isn't always good and I don't want to end up like Cim.'

By late evening, close to midnight, the tributes were all finally in the Training Centre though only Crystal, Sparky, Ferdinand, Velvet, Star, Ranger and Mallory could really be considered settled. Crystal had gone to her room to avoid her unimpressed escort and moody male tribute, Sparky considered rest a wise decision, believing he would need all his energy tomorrow for studying more of his surroundings and learning what he could about his rivals, Ferdinand and Velvet were simply accepting their fate, Star and Ranger were tired from travelling and Mallory was unfazed.

The youngest ones were the most anxious as expected; Sukie at least had her brother for comfort whilst Elysia, Swift, Gavin and Gabby had found themselves horribly alone. Sparky considered Elysia too young and vulnerable to be an ally so he made no attempt to converse with her, Simon was in too bad a mood to attempt niceties with Swift, Star considered Gavin easy meat and Ranger had attempted lamely to console Gabby until she had started crying, then he had vanished into his room to sleep.

By one in the morning everyone was asleep except for Talbot Green, District 7's male tribute. Even the woods playing around his walls could do little to comfort him, in fact it just upset him further, these woods lacked smell and the sound was nothing like that of the trees in District 7. District 7's trees had been filled with the song of mockingjays, the squeak of squirrels and the occasional squawk of a hawk or a crow. It was no surprise that no mockingjays sang from these walls; they were after all a sign of the Capitol's failure. The spawn of mockingbirds mating with jabberjays, mutt birds designed to eavesdrop on rebels, they were simply not meant to exist. When the jabberjays had ended up repeating everything they heard, including much deliberately false information, they had been released into the wild, expected to die off as they were all male, breeding with other birds had not been a consideration. Talbot missed all those sounds already but mostly he missed that fresh smell, though he supposed it was sweeter now as the trees were beginning to decay in the early throws of autumn, the leaves had been beautiful, golden, brown, red and orange, on these walls they were green, still in the full bloom of summer.

The fifteen-year-old sighed miserably before hitting the remote to banish the walls, leaving him in darkness. He contemplated turning on one of the lamps to gain some comfort from light but decided that he did not want to see anymore of his suite. It was disgusting how extravagant their floor was, how could people live like this when so many others starved? His escort had told him and Tempest to enjoy it but how could he? Talbot came from a large family, he had six siblings, all but one of them younger, his parents worked virtually from dawn until dusk, and sometimes right through the night, to try and provide for them but it never seemed to be enough. Even with Talbot, his older brother Ron, and two of their younger siblings working it still was not enough.

'I get to live this spoilt life for a few days,' he thought to himself sorrowfully, 'then I'm going to be thrown into an arena to kill people... I can't kill another human being, it's barbaric, especially strangers who have done nothing to me, yet if I don't then I will die... I bet Tempest can do it, maybe she will even be the one to kill me.' He sighed again, rolled over in his bed and rested his head on his right hand, it was just too much to think about it and yet he could not stop his thoughts.

* * *

When the morning came so did the stylists and the prep teams, each tribute had their own prep team though it was just one head stylist per district as the tributes were expected to co-ordinate with each other. Of all the tributes Crystal and Cadence were easily the happiest about the matter, delighted to have a chance to wear some expensive Capitol clothes and to finally show off their appearances, knowing that their looks might win them sponsors. This alien concept had been introduced to the tributes over a large, generous breakfast as they met their stylists and prep teams.

"So we have to win over people?" Basil queried before taking a large bite out of an iced Danish. He cocked a brown eyebrow as he looked at District 4's stylist in an unimpressed manner.

"That shouldn't be too hard for you," Silver quipped sarcastically, "you have half the crowd in your pocket already."

Basil grinned across the table at her before turning his brown gaze back on the stylist sitting opposite him.

The man looked like a decent enough stylist, well as far as the Capitol went, his hair was black, backcombed and streaked gold, he wore a black, silk shirt with puffed out sleeves, a waist coat that shimmered between blues, purples and greens, tight, black trousers and knee high, gold boots. "Sponsors can help you," he explained patiently, "they can send you weapons, food, water, medicine and anything else you might need but it will cost them money, so they have to really like you to consider spending money on you. Remember this is a first for people, you need to persuade them that parting with their coin is something they should do."

"It will hardly matter if someone sends me food and I have an axe stuck in my back," Silver grumbled. "I thought we were being chucked into an arena to slaughter each other, end of."

"You're so happy in the morning," Basil jested as he finished off his Danish and reached for a chocolate filled croissant.

Silver gave him a venomous smile before taking a sip from her honeyed tea, unlike Basil she was pacing herself with her food, not wanting to risk being bloated or ill from gorging. As they came from a wealthier district, they were not as excited over the food as several of the other tributes, impressed by the variety of dishes yes but not ecstatic simply because there was food.

"It's more than that," Antonius spoke up. He was seated by himself close to the end of the table; he had told himself that he had to make an effort with his tributes if he wanted to avoid anymore mishaps. "You could come up against anything in the arena, that is at the Gamemakers' discretion."

"Gamemakers?" Silver echoed curiously as she glanced up at him.

He nodded; sat down the plastic and glass tablet he had been reading the news on and looked at the tributes properly. "They are the ones assigned to design the arena," he explained, "their head is Titus Copper, he is young but talented, and with him you should expect anything. When you get to the training area, train for everything, focus on your weaknesses but try to hide your strengths, remember you will be with the other tributes."

"Remember?" Silver sneered. "You only told us this thirty minutes ago."

"An opening ceremony, three days of training and then what?" Basil pondered as he looked at the wide spread before him and considered what to devour next.

"Then you will perform individually for the Gamemakers, they will judge you on your abilities and publicise your scores and then I don't know," Antonius admitted, "probably the Games themselves."

"We will dress you for the ceremony," the stylist interrupted, "and since we only have two days I would like to get started. Your district is based around fishing so we will focus on that."

Basil grinned jeeringly at Silver as he pulled over a bowl of multicoloured pieces of sugared grain in goat's milk. "Oh I know, you could wear a bikini made from seashells and seaweed, I bet that would win votes!" he joked.

Antonius and Silver scowled whilst the stylist gave a small smile. "Not a bad idea," he remarked, too sincerely for Silver's liking.

The dark haired woman folded her arms and frowned. "No," she commented flatly.

In the other suites the other stylists weren't faring much better, Tempest wasn't keen on dressing up whilst Talbot simply wasn't keen. He had been horrified to learn they would be preened and dressed up before being put on display before the whole world, trotted out as glittering lambs ready for the slaughter, the whole idea made him sick. He had not touched any food this morning despite his escort's urging and had lost himself in his mellow thoughts, ignoring most of what the stylist and prep team suggested.

Ranger had balked at the idea of dressing up as a cow and refused to have any further conversation with the stylists leaving the confused and still upset Gabby to deal with things whilst several floors down Simon had threatened to cut the stylist and had to be physically restrained by his prep team before his escort calmed him down.

After an hour, or a couple of hours in some cases, the tributes finally accepted that they had no more say in this than they had had in the Reaping. There was going to be an opening ceremony, the President had willed it, and if they wanted sponsors then they had to attempt to look their best and gain some attention. Most escorts used Basil or the glamorous Crystal, beautiful Cadence, and handsome Rudy and Simon as an example of the competition. Basil had already won over people with his bold volunteering they argued, whilst Crystal, Cadence, Rudy and Simon had natural good looks to rely on to make them memorable. If they made their outfits brighter, bigger, or indeed shinier then they might stand a chance at gaining some interest for themselves.

Once it became apparent that they had to consent the tributes soon found themselves dragged off and put to the mercy of their prep team. They were stripped, bathed, shaved, plucked, primed, washed, moisturised and styled for hours. Hair was cut, spiked, curled, crimped, straightened, and even dyed. Silver found her dark hair given silver streaks much to her chagrin, Thorn found his trimmed and his stubble shaved away, Sparky's was spiked, and Elysia's bob was neatened and smoothed and her glasses were swapped for smaller more expensive looking ones with gold, oval frames. Ferdinand had to be pinned down, the filthy tribute from District 6 proved to be the most resistant of the tributes, to the disgust of his prep team he actually liked being oily and having tangled, greasy hair. It took three to hold him and another to scrub off the worst of the oil stains and cut out bad tangles in his dirty fair hair. Tomboy Velvet was just as unimpressed with the prep team but knew better than to resist, though she scowled when they put a bow on her curly, light brown locks.

Talbot was numb as he was styled whilst Tempest grew dismayed and then angered when her prep team commented loudly about her unfavourable looks, debating over what to do about her buck teeth and frizzy hair. Simon continued to make threats though they were mostly empty whilst Swift and Sukie were actually happy to see themselves being transformed, turned into the princesses they had dreamed about being.

By evening the tributes were exhausted, save for Cadence, Crystal and the fiery Mallory who were all delighted to see how beautiful they had become and were eager for more- more hairstyles, more nail polish and definitely more clothes. Crystal was actually happy, which Rudy was angry to see, and Cadence considered that things could be worse; they could be thrown into tiny compartments with only bread and water after all. If they had to go out at least they were going to do it in style.

Thorn and Talbot's moods had worsened by dinner time and neither felt like eating. Thorn tried to save face for his sister though it was almost too difficult. He considered excusing himself to his room early but then bitterly reminded himself that his days with his sister were numbered and very final. So he tried to smile when she showed off the pearl bracelet on her right wrist and enthused about the stylists' numerous ideas for their ceremony costumes.

Talbot could not even make the effort to disguise his grief like Thorn and was sullen as he sat at the dinner table. Unnoticed by the others, who were occupied with the escort chattering happily about them dressing as trees, he slipped a steak knife from the table and deep into his trouser pocket. He could not kill anyone, he knew that with a certainty, but he could not wait to die either. This they would not decide for him, he would wrestle control of his fate back from the Capitol and end things on his own terms. Twenty minutes later he excused himself from dinner and slipped off to his room. One hour later, after sparing some final thoughts for his family, he slit both his wrists.


	3. Chapter 3- Another Escort Gone

Another escort gone, another disaster. Titus was well aware of the rumours circling about that he was unfit for the job, too young simply and not skilled enough to deal with this latest blip. He felt he had dealt with sufficiently though and as smoothly as one could handle a suicide. He had not approved of the President's suggestion to get rid of the other tribute too but had been wise enough not to argue against it, she was too much of a risk, with her alive the truth might get out and in the end, she had made the perfect pawn for them.

The other tributes were in shock when a message was shown to them all simultaneously that evening in their rooms. They had all come back from their final alterations, for better or worse the costumes were ready for the opening ceremony, which would occur through the streets of the Capitol tomorrow. Their escorts had commanded them to wait in the living rooms and directed their attention to the large screens against the walls. Suddenly the female tribute from District 7, Tempest Clarks, had come onto their screen, though only Sparky, Star and Dixon could recall her name, both Cadence and Crystal remembered her as 'the ugly one'. She was pale and trembling, her dark hair frizzier than usual, her blue eyes red rimmed and flickering about widely and her lip spilt and slick with drool. "I killed him," she hissed into the camera, "it was me or him."

There was a gunshot and before all of them the girl's head seemed to explode inwards and the camera became spattered with blood and chunks of flesh before the screen faded to black. Sukie flung her head against Thorn with a scream, Gabby burst into horrified tears and Gavin let out a choke of disgust and shock. Silver Rivers regarded the screen with a cool derision, she, Basil, Sparky, Rudy, Simon, Ranger, Mallory and Thorn were the only ones who had grasped the gravity of their situation from the start, the others had still been foolish enough to hope that there might be some out, some last minute of mercy, until now.

'Is this it?' Gabby wondered as she quivered. 'Did that really happen? Is she dead? Is this it?'

Ranger kept his face carefully blank as President Ivon came onto the screen, as he pondered what exactly the girl had meant by 'me or him'. "Tributes," the President addressed them curtly, "I do apologise for such unpleasant footage but after what has occurred it was necessary. The tribute from District 7 took it upon herself to start the Games earlier and ruthlessly slaughtered the male tribute, this is forbidden. You may be eager to see yourselves to victory but you cannot attack one another until the games begin, otherwise, like your fellow tribute, you will receive the ultimate punishment. The games must be fair; you cannot give yourself an advantage by practising your kills or lessening your opponents."

"The games must be public too," Basil grumbled sardonically, earning a glower from Antonius.

"As all districts must have a male and female tribute competing, District 7 will be reaped again and the tributes shall be introduced during the opening ceremony. That is all."

The screen went blank again, Rudy let out a low, mocking whistle earning a look of disgust from Crystal. "Oh what?" he snapped when he caught her emerald glare. "You didn't know her."

"Still, we should respect her," Crystal suggested.

"Or we should envy her for at least getting a quick death," Rudy retorted darkly.

Higher up in the building, Simon Jackson muttered, "so this is serious then. I wonder how that idiot who volunteered feels now?"

"It's always been serious," his female escort, a fragile looking thirty something called Tinka, replied sternly. "For you and for us, three escorts are...gone," she swallowed hard, saying dead would probably earn her a gravestone too, "and now two tributes."

"They will do anything to see this game happen then," Simon commented bitingly as he glanced over at her. She was nervous, who could blame her given the way her predecessor had gone but then she didn't have to go into an arena and face death did she? Still, Simon felt a small degree of pity for her. 'It's good to know this affects them as well as us,' he thought bitterly.

On the top floor Nicky Benstrom glanced hesitantly at Skylar with his beady, blue eyes. "Do you remember the tribute from District 7?" he queried anxiously.

Skylar looked at Nicky with surprise, until now it had been easy to forget his presence, they had not known each other in District 12 and she had no interest in making friends now. She thought about it for a moment and shook her head, she recalled that he had been tall but that was it.

"Neither do I," Nicky choked out, "does that mean no one will remember me either? What was his name? What was her name?" He clutched at his brown hair suddenly and shook his head violently. "What were their names?" he shouted.

Skylar shrank back from him to the edge of the long, L-shaped, red couch and looked questioningly at their escort. He stood with his arms folded, looking at the blank screen unobtrusively and had remained in the same stance for five minutes now. Skylar assumed it was shock and loathed him for feeling it; unlike Simon she had no sympathies for anyone other than a tribute. "Do you know their names?" she demanded as Nicky's shouts grew louder.

The escort looked at Skylar with a dazed expression before finally realising that the male tribute from District 12 was verging on hysterics. "Whose names?" he queried dumbly.

Nicky looked at him in outrage and gestured at the screen wildly with one hand. "Is that what they'll say when I die?" he demanded. "Whose name?" He shook his head and bowed it into his knees. "I can't take this," he stammered. "I don't want to be forgotten when I die."

"You won't be," the escort assured him with a thin smile, "that's what the opening ceremony is about, the training sessions, everyone will know who you are, don't worry."

The opening ceremony started with a grand display of fireworks, each of the districts saw their symbol lit up in sparks of white, gold and silver followed by spirals, rockets and giant, booming explosions. Every district had its screen on again so that they could witness the impressive and opulent display. Only the people in District 7 were subdued about the matter, they looked from lowered lids with frowns, not daring to express fear, disgust, awe or any kind of emotion except weariness. The tributes had been taken from them swiftly, an impromptu reaping had been called, it wasn't filmed or glamorised, the children were herded from their beds during the cold dawn and selected quickly. The male picked was Chuck Anors, an eighteen-year-old he was easily one of the strongest men never mind children in the district, it gave the district members a feeble jolt of hope to see such a tough competitor picked. The female was fifteen-year-old Jasmine Dark, she worked with the carpenters, specialising in turning wood into works of art and ornaments, her fingers were designed for the more delicate work and it was questionable how well she might do.

The pair found themselves hurried to the Capitol and hastened into the late Talbot and Tempest's costumes, with no time for alterations they found Chuck's costume too long and loose and Jasmine's designed for a woman with bigger hips and a larger waist. Too shocked by their predicament to object, the pair soon found themselves trussed up as bland looking trees and bundled onto a magnificent chariot, painted brown and decorated with holly leaves and pink flowers.

Rudy and Crystal headed the tributes, their carriage and costumes showed off the affluence of District 1, the wheels were gilded, the seats lined with sheets of crimson silk and the horses were tall, proud palominos. Rudy continued to scowl as he cracked at the reins and urged the horses on, he had been dressed like a proud Roman emperor with a cloak of crimson and gold, a toga of soft white with a chain of golden coins about it and a small, jewelled, gold circlet. To match, Crystal was every bit the Roman empress, confident, imposing and stunning, the crowds went wild when her beaming image showed up on the large screens.

They had started in the streets, charging past a cheering public and now they were reaching the courtyard, here the journey would end before the President and the Gamemakers; they waited on a balcony above, the real emperor and his senate.

District 2's tributes were close behind; their chariot was silver with chunks of stone seemingly growing out of its edges giving it a tough, warlike look. Thorn and his sister had been dressed as a cross between military folk and miners, the district was known for its quarry mines after all. Thorn wore a uniform with gleaming silver buttons, the symbol of District 2 on the brow of his cap, and in one hand he clutched an ornamental pickaxe with a blunt blade, in his other hand he grasped Sukie's sweaty palm. The crowd cheered and awed at the pair as the commentator took care to note that they were brother and sister. 'Our district stayed loyal,' Thorn thought to himself, 'for what?'

District 3's chariot was plainer and all attention drawn instead to the costumes. Sparky's hair had been spiked to the point of him looking like he had received an electric shock, around him a navy cloak flowed in the wind and every couple of seconds a jolt of blue and white danced across his shoulders causing the crowd to gasp and marvel. The crown of tiny light bulbs about Elysia's dark brown hair was just as effective, giving her a soft halo that made the thirteen-year-old appear angelic, unfortunately it also made her look vulnerable. Sparky grinned and waved at the crowds enthusiastically whilst Elysia just looked about in bafflement.

District 4 got the biggest cheers as expected, many were even chanting Basil's name. The President and Head Gamekeeper looked to the screens attentively as they zoomed in on Basil. He had been dressed like a merman, a tail of glittering, jewelled turquoise, aqua and jade scales had been sewn about his legs, his tanned chest was bare save for the conch shell hanging about his neck and in his brown locks were a couple of strands of seaweed. When the camera finally stopped lingering on Basil and gave his female companion a chance to shine the crowd went wilder. Silver had been dressed to follow Basil's mocking suggestion, her bikini of clam shells, and seaweed was barely there showing off her toned hourglass figure, her hair hung long and free, whipped wildly into the air, about it and her brow were small silver starfish linked together with pearls and silver chain lengths, and about her neck between her breasts a silver seahorse hung from a pearl necklace. "I hate you," she commented brightly to Basil behind a wide smile.

Basil laughed in response. "You look lovely though darling," he teased.

Titus' eyes widened slightly as the scandalous costume, she was only seventeen after all but then she certainly had the figure for the outfit.

At last District 5's tributes arrived, known for power and electricity, the district would be unstoppable if allied with the technology oriented District 3, an alliance President Ivon was certain he would not allow in reality but hoped might occur in the Games, it would certainly give the four an edge. If Sparky and Elysia had been the masters of electricity, Simon and Swift were the gods of it. Simon was wearing a cloak of purple with gold lightning bolts clasping it to his shoulders, unlike Rudy he had been spared the toga, though he had the looks he was too scrawny to have the physique, instead he wore heavier robes of dove grey with a belt of steel and leather. In one hand he held a gold lightning bolt. Swift was styled similarly only in a white dress with a thinner belt and in her hand she held an iron rod with a garnet on top of it.

District 6's tributes had been given a sleek, modern looking chariot of iron. Their costumes were made of leather, brimmed caps, large, tinted goggles with round, bronze frames and brown, leather straps, black, leather driving gloves, and matching brown trenchcoats. Velvet looked every inch the tomboy, her curly, brown locks were lost under the cap and her figure had vanished under the coat.

District 7's tributes did not know what to do as the brown stallions charged out. The crowd looked at them curiously and many laughed at their tree costumes. The public had been told that Tempest had murdered Talbot and been executed for breaking game rules, though they had been spared the footage of her confession and execution. Chuck hated being before such a large crowd, he hated crowds, and he kept his green gaze purposely ahead. Jasmine did not mind, perhaps because she was still in too much shock. The tributes had been reaped, it was meant to be over, and they were meant to have been safe from this.

The crowd's roars dulled a little until District 8's tributes arrived. If the audience had found Crystal and Silver pleasing it was rapturous for Cadence. When asked to dress as an artist the eighteen-year-old had been dismissive, instead she had come up with a bolder suggestion. She was Bartley's severely underdressed muse, her tanned body covered in gold body glitter, her dress merely a tight, sheet of green silk, held up low at her chest with one hand, and secured about her waist with a thin, tight strap of jade, it was backless and one bare thigh hung out from under it suggestively. Though Bartley was barely more than Cadence's prop, sitting staring at her dumbly with a palette in one hand and a brush in the other though there was no canvas he did not mind. He had gotten to see Cadence up close and personal with only a sheet to keep her modesty, for one delirious moment he decided he might actually be able to die happy.

When District 9 finally approached the courtyard Gavin was soaked with sweat and his right eye was throbbing and watering. He and Star had been dressed unimaginatively in dungarees, with hats of straw and chaffs of wheat scattered over their clothes. Star grinned at the crowd and waved though her arm was aching now and she was growing weary with the whole facade.

Many in the crowd fell silent when Ranger's image appeared on the screen, tall and horned with a cloak of sable about him, he looked like a devil. It was the closest his stylist could get him to looking like a cow and the effect was fearsome. Gabby looked adorable and entirely unthreatening as his cowgirl, complete with a lasso dangling uselessly by her side, tasselled, brown boots and a cowgirl's hat that was patched black and white. The sight of her had the crowd gasping in awe and sympathy; she could not possibly last long in the arena.

Dixon and Mallory followed wearing crowns of wheat, both clutching a miniature silver cornucopia in their hands. Their carriage had been filled with apples, Mallory considered it a grand insult given how hungry she and the others went in their district but for the sake of appearances she swallowed down her anger and forced herself to smile and wave.

At last Nicky and Skylar arrived, dressed in coal mining suits that weren't flattering to either of them, with their cheeks smudged black. By now the tributes were weary of travel though the spectators were much eager for more and cheering even as they sneered at Nicky and Skylar's outfits. When the chariot arrived and halted at last President Ivon stood up to address them.

"Welcome to the very first Hunger Games!" he bellowed into a large microphone, earning another roar from the mass in response. He gazed down at the tributes calmly and nodded solemnly. "Congratulations on being the first tributes selected to represent and honour your districts. May the odds be ever in your favour!" He stepped back from the microphone as the cheers grew louder once more.

"Is that it?" Basil muttered.

"Can't be in everyone's favour," Simon commented snidely.

'They will certainly be in mine,' Cadence thought smugly as she glanced about the competition.

Only Sparky and Dixon thought to study their rivals as best they could. The chariots were formed in arc making the tributes mostly visible to one another. Sadly there was little time for them to eye one another before their escorts hurried out to fetch them down from their chariots. Basil earned the most stares; Simon was unimpressed with him whilst both Ranger and Rudy had a degree of respect for him. Cadence and Crystal looked at each other with undisguised envy and Rudy regarded the children as a wolf would a sheep. Silver caught Ranger's calm stare before her escort ushered her on.

It was done, they had been paraded before the crowds like slaughtered animals for a feast, now they would train, then they would be judged and finally, they would fight and the seductive glamour of the Capitol would be replaced with the grim reality of death.

That night they all slept with ease, exhausted and knowing better than to question their fate after what had happened to Talbot and Tempest. There would be no escape, twenty-four children, twenty-three victims and one victor.

The Training Room was impressive; there was archery, sword fighting, boxing, wrestling, camouflaging, poison training, rock climbing, tree climbing and basic techniques for setting fires and making traps. It was too much for anyone to learn in three days, and it was obvious that none of the twenty-four were really certain what to focus on, what to hide and what to display. They regarded one another warily, only Basil and Swift were happy to approach others and only Crystal, Swift and Gavin were openly friendly. Ranger was quiet, showing neither ease nor hostility, he eventually chose to focus on practising with the swords.

Bartley demonstrated his art skills in the camouflaging whilst Mallory displayed an excellent knowledge of plants, picking out which could heal and which could kill with ease.

All of the tributes had been warned by the escorts to be careful what they showed off, they did not want to give their competition too much of an edge by displaying their strengths and weaknesses. At the same time though now was their only chance to train, to learn skills that might save them in the arena and to enhance their specialities to display before the Gamemakers.

Velvet started to practise throwing daggers but when she missed a couple of targets she was hasty in moving on to kick boxing instead. As if to mock her, Rudy was quick to step up to the daggers and immediately deal out three lethal blows to individual targets. Velvet pretended not to notice the handsome blonde though she was very much aware of his obvious taunting.

Having arm wrestled in his district to earn some coin to make up for that which his dad blew on drugs, Simon decided to skip out the hand to hand combat and work on the melee instead. It was frustrating though, they had no idea what they would come up against in the arena, would they get weapons? Would there be any point in figuring out how to wield a mace when he might not see one in there?

For three days this continued, each day with a break for lunch and each evening with more sessions with their stylists, this time to get costumes for their upcoming interviews. The interviews were Quinn's latest idea. Simon had been livid and refused whilst Swift and Sukie had been quite happy to be styled again. For Sukie it was the one bright spot, she was weak during the training and could find no particular skill for herself despite her brother's aid.

On the second day Silver made a grievous error when she flung a spiked metal ball, the ball missed her intended target, bouncing off the metal edge of a table instead. It would have smashed against her skull if not for the quick and surprising interference of Ranger Peyton. The District 10 tribute was quick in pushing her to the ground and out of the way of the ball, which instead embedded itself in the shelf of spears.

For a moment the tributes were still, looking over warily and curiously whilst the supervisors tensed, preparing to separate the pair in case Ranger had actually attacked.

"Can't have any more of us missing out," he murmured as he sat up from the bewildered seventeen-year-old.

Silver blinked up at the male in disbelief before masking her shock with a cool expression and mentally cursing herself for her error. "Thank you," she said frostily.

"Well she almost escaped," Rudy commented sadistically, causing the likeminded Simon to snicker.

Crystal was tempted to scorn but resisted, during their training sessions she had noted Rudy's prowess, he seemed capable of wielding any weapon and it was obvious that he and Thorn were the strongest of the males. Though she didn't like him, in the arena she considered that, that would not matter; he would do well for an ally until the end.

By the third day of training there was a hint of alliances, Rudy had also noticed Thorn's capability and despite the fact that he was weakened by his sister, Rudy considered he might be good to have on his side. Swift and Elysia were quick to band together, Dixon was contemplating the tough Chuck as an ally, and Gabby seemed determined to shadow Ranger though he paid her little interest. Gavin was desperate for an ally, but he did not think anyone would be willing to consider him and so he just tried his best not to look entirely weak.

As the sun set on the third day they found themselves herded off individually to face the Gamemakers. They would show off their best skill in private and then later everyone would see their ratings out of twelve. They went in order, Basil joking before he left that they would score him low as punishment for him volunteering. When the scores were revealed that evening Rudy was the highest with an eleven, whilst Mallory was second with a ten. Sukie, Swift, Elysia, Gabby and Gavin were all near the bottom, Gavin tying last with Gabby with a pathetic two. It had sent the pair into despair, Gavin had retired to bed whilst Gabby's lip had trembled and she had looked at Ranger pleadingly.

Ranger had stiffened himself to the girl's gaze though he felt an overwhelming pity for her, she was too young to be going through this, they all were. He could not help her though, not when only one of them could ultimately live. Would he not just be delaying her death by her helping her? Was that not cruel?

That night sleep did not come so easily for any of them; they had been shown off, judged and scored, now they would be bet over like cattle in a ring, whilst they had to sing for their supper on an interview show before facing the final and most difficult challenge, the Games themselves.

"Why an eight?" Ivon demanded as he sipped slowly at a cup of deep, dark, crimson wine.

"He proved himself quite capable with a spear," Titus answered calmly as he turned from the images of the tributes to look at the president. The twenty-four faces had decorated the wall of the president's suite for four days now; he seemed almost obsessed with them.

"I don't want him to win," Ivon snapped, "it would be a disaster. Then again, they must be fair, at least that District 1 boy scored higher."

Titus nodded. "He was impressive," he admitted. In truth he had thought the fifteen-year-old brutal more than anything, there was a certain hunger in the boy's blue eyes, a longing he feared might be satisfied with his first kill. 'That's what we want though,' he reminded himself, 'someone who's willing to make a kill and provide some entertainment.'

"And that District 4 girl," Ivon continued, "I was surprised to hear she earned a 7, I was informed she committed an error in the Training Room."

Titus immediately felt compelled to both defend the girl and his decision to give her a decent score. Not that he was willing to admit to the president that it was he who had pushed for it to get an adequate result; the others had wanted to give her a 4 or a 5. "Yes, with a spiked ball and yet when it was on a chain she was good with it." Titus had sincerely felt that the girl had showed some skill with the chained ball and that if scored everyone low, well what would be the point? No they needed a nice mix of scores and he had helped see that happen.

"The children all scored low," Ivon complained as he leaned back in his chair, "it's too predictable."

Titus stiffened slightly, in truth he had been reluctant to score all of the young ones so poorly, it had seemed like giving out a death sentence but he had to be fair and none of them had been particularly talented, although District 3's Elysia had supposedly shown talent when it came to trap making and Gavin was allegedly fast on his feet and with his hands. "They were all scored fairly," Titus assured. He had tried to argue Swift's case but the others wouldn't agree to give her anything higher than a 5.

Ivon nodded dismissively with a wave of his free hand. "I know, I know but still, this game needs an edge to it and surprises."

"We will have plenty of those," Titus was quick to respond.

Ivon glanced up at him with cold, green eyes and smiled before asking, "did you change your hair again? It's the only thing you ever change," he muttered. It was the one thing he could not understand about the Head Gamekeeper, why did he shy away from fashion? Ivon had thought with his new job the younger man might make more of an effort to impress and stand out but so far Titus had not even attempted to dress better.

Titus' hair was currently short at the front, dark with long copper tips growing at the back down to his neck; previously it had been brown with a few blonde highlights. In the Capitol Titus was an oddity, he never dressed or styled himself adventurously or extravagantly, he rarely purged though he didn't need to as work kept him too busy to gorge, not that he had any real love for food anyway. "I was bored with it," the Gamemaker answered calmly.

Ivon shook his head. "You're always bored with it. Now if there's nothing else please keep things running smoothly from now on, I don't want any more tributes or escorts needing replaced. Let's get through these interviews and have the games begin," he commented with a measure of impatience in his voice."

"Of course." Titus gave a nod before turning and exiting out of the room.

One by one they were waiting, decorated again and ready to be displayed before a ravenous audience. Rudy was scowling as usual, despite his stylists urging for him to smile, he was first on, the one they would be most alert for and focused on but equally if he didn't do a good enough job at impressing then by the time Skylar walked on he could be forgotten. He swept a hand through his blonde hair again, despising how the gel and light sprinkle of gold glitter felt in it. 'They're trying to make us look like them,' he thought hatefully as he waited to be called. 'It would be too scandalous to see us for what we really are, District folk. No we have to be tamed down and made presentable for their sensitive eyes. Well if they can't look at us now then how will they look when we're killing each other?'

"Please welcome Rudy Barnes!" This was the voice of the announcer, Rose Rample; she was Quinn's older sister. A charismatic, quick witted and yet sharp tongued woman, she could be as warm as summer and yet as cold as winter, clever with her tongue it usually took someone ten minutes or so to even realise that they had been insulted by a sly comment of hers.

"Good luck," Crystal said with as much sincerity as she could muster. Unlike Rudy she was looking forward to this, it was like being a model, walking out on the catwalk to be adored and envied.

Rudy walked out rigidly, purposely ignoring the disapproving looks from his escort and stylists who sat near the front with Crystal's stylists. He was dressed like a more modern looking royal, with a flashy suit of crimson and gold with a long, thin cloak and a small, almost unnoticeable, brass crown. It would not do to trot Rudy out as an emperor before a President. His blue eyes flickered between the blinding lights on the stage, the wooden floor and the plush, purple chair Rose gestured for him to sit in.

Rose beamed at him before whipping her head round to grin widely at her audience and declare, "please give a big cheer for the first ever tribute picked for The Hunger Games!"

The spectators roared with delight as Rudy slumped down into the seat and folded his arms setting the tone for his interview.

The other tributes stood and watched on the many small screens sitting on the wall opposite where they stood in a rigid line. Cadence sneered as she watched Rudy blow his chance at currying favour whilst Simon nodded approvingly and Basil snickered openly at Rudy's monotone retorts.

Tiring of the moody tribute, Rose hurried him off quicker than planned and hoped to herself that they weren't all the same. "Let's say farewell to Rudy, I'm guessing the stress of the games just ways too heavily on you. Not to worry, and best of luck!"

Rudy tromped off the stage without a single glance at the audience.

"Bless him," Rose remarked to the audience, "he probably just has stage fright. Now, let's welcome the female tribute from District 1, Crystal Mirrors!"

Crystal swung her shoulders back, raised her head and strode out proud and tall. She was wearing a glamorous dress of crimson that pooled out behind her and was held tight at her slender waist with a belt of tiny, tinkling gold bells that matched her earrings. She paused to smile with delight at the audience, giving them a happy wave before she turned to Rose with a smile.

"Well she knows what she's at," Simon murmured as Crystal leaned across to Rose, like they were best friends catching up.

"What's that?" Swift queried as she blinked up at Simon.

Simon grinned down at her coyly and replied, "you're too young to get it."

"Oh." Swift bowed her head slightly. "Well can you tell me anyway? I might not grow up to learn."

Simon frowned a little but said nothing, instead acting as if he had not heard the thirteen-year-old.

Though Crystal was a lot warmer than Rudy to talk to, Rose began to worry that she was stealing the show. 'This might be about them but it's about me too,' Rose thought venomously, 'my chance to show off my interviewing skills. Time to move onto District 2 I think and see if we can get some tears.'

"Well thank you very much Crystal, you've been a delight, I suggest you share some of your charm with your partner," Rose joked. The audience giggled but Crystal just gave a small, demure smile, well aware that Rudy might be watching.

"It's been a pleasure," Crystal retorted sincerely before waving to the audience once more and walking off.

When Thorn was called out, Rose didn't hesitate to comment about his sister. "What an honour to be selected for the first ever Hunger Games," she remarked cheerfully, "but," she paused for dramatics, "what a terrible twist for your sister to follow. Did you cry after or were you just in shock? Tell me, how does it feel?" She pushed the glimmering silver microphone outwards and as close to Thorn as she could manage.

The male gave the presenter a guarded look of hostility as he thought over his words carefully. "It burns," he murmured, "deep inside knowing that we will never be a complete family again. Knowing that my sister and those other kids are going to lose their innocence so soon."

"Uh huh." Rose glanced briefly at her audience as she nodded solemnly. "And you yourself, it must be difficult given that your birthday has just past." She whipped her head round to her viewers and smiled. "That's right folks, Thorn here turned nineteen just two days ago."

The spectators immediately clapped and cheered, Thorn gave them a fleeting smile as he remembered his escort's warnings about how sponsors could make the difference between life and death. If he could win sponsors then Sukie might stand a chance.

"A few more days and you wouldn't have even been a contender, how does that make you feel?" Rose demanded.

"I'm glad I'm here," Thorn confessed, "so I can help my sister."

"Well of course. Tell me, did you celebrate at all?"

"Is she serious?" Nicky spluttered back in the waiting hall. "Did he celebrate? How?"

Mallory glanced back at him with a cool, taunting stare. "Maybe she thinks we all got him a cake and sang happy birthday," she replied. "You know, best wishes before one of us plants a knife in his back."

Nicky looked at her with disgust but said nothing.

When it was Sukie's turn for her interview she managed to resist crying despite Rose's best efforts. Thorn and Tiberius had both warned her that tears would only make her look weak. If she couldn't appear strong she had to at least look brave.

When it was Sparky's turn he impressed in a suit that seemed to shoot out sparklers from his boots and belt before doing his best to charm. Though Sparky knew it was vital to seem pleasing he had never been one for socialising and found his interview surprisingly difficult.

Elysia's went by better, what she lacked in social skills she made up for in a surprising show of intelligence. Though she did not talk much with people she did not fear them either and wasn't intimidated by Rose or the audience.

When it was Basil's turn the audience bellowed, whistled and cheered before he was even announced. Ivon's expression curdled slightly though he schooled his expression into a calm facade when the cocky sixteen-year-old walked out. Basil made a show of waving, grinning and bowing to the spectators, well aware that he had them in the palm of his hand. He sat down on the chair with ease, crossed one leg over the other and placed his palms loosely on his thighs.

"Basil Vega," Rose greeted with joy, "the one who needs no introduction. I think with you I have to get straight to the point and ask the question burning on everyone's tongue, why did you volunteer?"

Both Ivon and Titus took care to lean forward and take heed to the answer. Given that they were in the centre, three rows back in luxurious box seats with speakers beside the chairs they need not have bothered.

Basil grinned slyly and replied, "oh I can't reveal that just yet."

The spectators and Rose immediately groaned whilst his escort gave a subdued grin of pride. Titus wanted to grin too, he liked the boy's guts, but he was all too aware of Ivon's look of displeasure and instead kept a purposely blank expression on his face.

"Well when? I mean what if you lose, then we'll never know!" Rose complained as she threw one hand up in the air carelessly.

Basil turned to the audience with a cheeky smile. "Well then I guess you should help me to win." He winked and Titus let a grin slip out despite himself. The boy certainly had sense, no doubt he would get the most and best sponsors now. "Oh and if you could," Basil tacked on with a gentle, pleading look, "please help Silver too, she has become so dear to me the past few days."

In the waiting hall Silver's cheeks turned scarlet as she immediately fumed. "That ass!" she cursed aloud.

Simon folded his arms behind her and commented seriously, "you could do worse than have him on your side."

Silver bristled at the remark but did not reply.

"Aw is that a hint of a romance?" Rose queried.

"Well now," Basil replied with feigned embarrassment, "I couldn't say that. If I had known her sooner though..."

"What?!" Silver roared loudly enough for the others to hear.

Ranger smiled, Cadence rolled her eyes in disgust and Mallory muttered, "I'll make a point of letting them die together then."

Dixon looked at Mallory in shock but said nothing. 'Is she really up for this?' he wondered. 'I mean it's one thing to do it for survival but she sounds like she wants to do it.'

"Well we'd better get Silver out here to let us know what she thinks about it!" Rose cried out. Now this was entertainment. "Best of luck to you Basil!"

Basil nodded, grinned and waved again before exiting.

Silver forced herself to show a measure of dignity as she walked on, though it was hard to with the wolf whistles, the murmurs of jealousy and worst of all, the coos of sympathy and awe. She sat down, fixed a smile to her face, smoothed out her tight, silvery-blue dress and pushed back her silver streaked locks.

"Well Silver, congratulations on having such a loyal tribute to be paired with. Now please, tell us, do you share his sentiments?"

'This is a farce,' Ivon thought hatefully, 'that boy is turning this all into a spectacle and now this girl is about to do the same.'

"No," Silver's answer was quick and blunt enough to turn compel the audience to silence.

"Really? Not even a spark of romance?" Rose queried hopefully, jarred by the blunt retort.

Silver gave the sweetest smile she could manage. "Basil and I are the victims of fate, we have been brought together through divine selection and I guess well, it's enough to make anyone emotional. In this unique situation is it really so surprising for us to become passionate and confused?" she queried innocently as she gave her audience a begging look.

Ivon looked thoughtful as he studied the seventeen-year-old. 'She's denouncing that idiot,' he thought, 'but she's being clever about it.'

Titus looked on with approval, Basil had thrust this young woman into an unexpected situation without warning and here she was somehow handling it with grace.

"So you're saying the games have overwhelmed Basil and made him confused?" Rose questioned doubtfully. Naturally she did not want to help bash the favourite.

"Well it's had us all confused," Silver said delicately, "we could be dead tomorrow, now is our last chance to explore our feelings, to see what love is, and I guess some of us have been made anxious about that. Though our time together has been brief Basil has indeed become dear to me," she lied, "but just because our time might be short I don't think it's right to get ourselves mystified, I have to be fair to him."

"Well, I guess...I guess you're just right," Rose said, forcing herself to smile though in truth the girl had her perplexed. "Let's welcome District 5's tributes then, the night is short after all!"

When the sixteen-year-old Simon walked out many women in the audience gave gasps of lust and bold cries of longing. He was good looking; there was no denying it, and his sharp outfit of a soft, pale blue tunic with bronze knee plates, elbow plates, bronze and sapphire blue, velvet gloves and matching boots only enhanced his attractive appearance. Even Rose found herself lustful for the boy despite the twenty years between them and she stuttered out several of her questions, her tongue loosened by his alluring smiles and amiable, seductive responses. Simon knew he was good looking and unlike the equally easy on the eyes Rudy he knew how to use it.

Even vain Cadence, who considered herself immune to most men and too pretty for them, found herself fawning slightly at his image on screen. 'Pity we had to meet this way,' she thought dismissively.

Rose took more time than necessary with Simon resulting in poor Swift's interview being rushed through. Still thinking of Simon the interviewer barely even looked at Swift and was quick with her questions, speaking over the girl twice in a bid to hurry her on.

When it was Ferdinand's turn he rubbed and scratched at his suit even in front of the audience. Until now he had spent most of his time rubbing his back against the wall and begging a frowning Velvet to help him scratch. Tiring of his whining his fellow tribute had eventually complied. The result was that his recently clipped dirty fair hair was now a tangled, sweat mess, his cheeks were flushed and his palms were sweaty from his efforts to ease the itching.

"You're fidgeting a lot there, are you uncomfortable?" Rose asked mockingly, drawing a titter from her audience.

Ferdinand grinned dopily back and nodded. "I'm used to be in sweats and rags," he explained.

"Oh." Rose smirked at her viewers. "I guess that's life in District 6 for you," she joked.

"Idiot," Velvet muttered though there was some sympathy in her grey eyes, she was just as uncomfortable in her puffed out pink dress though evidently better at hiding it.

'He's revolting,' Cadence thought scathingly as she folded her arms and tapped her foot impatiently. She was beginning to get pins and needles in her legs from standing for so long, it was ridiculous that they didn't have seats!

Ferdinand spent most of his interview rambling on happily about his love for vehicles, and his joy at fixing all the parts together. Rose hurried him off, gave a yawn, blinked at her audience and remarked teasingly, "where was I? Oh yes let's hear from Velvet Diego!" She put a hand up to the side of her cheek and commented, "let's hope she's not a car lover!"

The audience laughed as Velvet arrived, turning her mood sour. She answered every question Rose asked, though kept her answers purposely vague.

Not wanting to risk being bored again, Rose kept Velvet's interview brief before calling out the eagerly anticipated Chuck Anors. Hating crowds, he shuffled uneasily, looked at the floor and slumped in his seat.

"Now Chuck, we're all curious about you and Jasmine, newly picked, it must have been quite a shock." When Chuck said nothing Rose remarked, "Chuck? Chuck?"

He looked up and blinked in surprise. "What?" The audience immediately laughed causing him to squirm slightly.

"Still in shock?" Rose queried sympathetically. "We understand, but what an honour to be chosen for your district and make up for the disgrace of the previous tributes. Killing before the games, tut tut, you've got to be patient, we want a show!"

Chuck nodded dumbly; he just wanted to get this over with, all of it.

"Dare I ask, did you know either of the tributes?"

"Why isn't she saying their names?" Nicky snarled from the waiting hall.

"What is it with you and names?" Skylar snapped. "They're dead now Benstrom, we're not, you want to be remembered then make your interview good."

"That's so cold," Nicky grumbled as he shook his head.

Chuck shook his head at the question and for the rest of the interview remained uneasy. When Jasmine came out it was a relief to the now equally uncomfortable audience. She proved much brighter and animated, confessing that she had not known the tributes before her but was shocked by what had occurred and yes, ashamed to be from the same District. "I hope I, Chuck and my district will not be judged too harshly," she said to the audience with a doe eyed look. "We shall certainly do our best to make up for their mistakes."

When Bartley went out, he was quick to sing Cadence's praises, when Rose queried his relationship with fellow tribute. Unlike Silver, Cadence did not fume but instead gave a small smirk of pleasure; anything that made her sound good was worth hearing. Whilst Bartley prattled on about her skill at hand to hand combat and her speed, he forgot to bother trying to make himself sound good. It made it easy for Cadence when she came on to a wild cheer.

"Now Cadence, you had a very daring outfit at the Opening Ceremony but it certainly was memorable," Rose commented happily.

"And slutty," Skylar grumbled.

"Well I wanted to show that my district doesn't just create art but inspires it as well," Cadence explained, "and that anyone can be a work of art."

"I must have missed my calling," Ranger mused sardonically.

As Cadence prattled on, trying to make herself seem impressive, eventually even Rose got bored of hearing all about her. "Well it all sounds wonderful, best of luck to you in the games darling," she concluded the interview. "Now let's welcome Gavin Hunter!"

Gavin's pockmarks had been hidden behind make-up, which made him sweat, thankfully though his stylists had though to put an extra vest top under him to absorb the sweat and stop it from showing on the pale yellow shirt they had dressed him in, with a jade green tuxedo. He was eager and happy to talk, doing his best to sound interesting, though he frowned and flinched when Rose mentioned his low score given by the Gamemakers. "I guess I just need to impress in other ways," he murmured.

"Exactly," Rose enthused, "keep your spirit up kid."

When Gavin left, a little happier than he'd been all night, Star stepped out, moving deliberately slow and putting on airs. She was haughty during her interview, sharp tongued and downright insulting. Rose tried to match her edge, pointing out that her score of a 6 was nothing to be proud of, and that she needed to win some sponsors for herself. Before their catty remarks could turn into a fight, Rose bluntly asked Star to leave to make way for Ranger.

Ranger was pleasant but quiet, he had little to say but Rose and the audience liked him anyway. He looked tough, his ceremony costume had been impressive and he had scored a pleasing 9, things looked good for him.

"What about your fellow tribute Gabby?" Rose queried. "The youngest tribute and the lowest scorer, things don't look good for her. Do you think you'll watch out for her?"

Ranger stiffened at the question and gazed evenly at Rose with dark grey eyes streaked with brown. "I can't," he said simply, "it's going to be tough for all of us."

Gabby's lip trembled and she began to shake, she had constantly been at Ranger's side hoping that the older boy would promise to help her but he had been purposely evasive with her instead. Now here he was publicly saying that he was going to leave her to the wolves.

Rose nodded. "Understandable of course, it's everyone for themselves though allies wouldn't hurt, for a time anyway but then you will want strong ones of course."

"Gabby has her strengths," Ranger answered calmly as he leaned back in the couch, "and anyone would be lucky to have her on their side. She's small yes but she's sneaky too, which makes her great at stealth. I'm just more of a lone wolf that's all."

Gabby perked up at Ranger's answer and wondered, 'is that what it is? Will I stand a chance by myself then?'

Ranger's interview continued on briefly and then it was Gabby's turn. As the stylists couldn't make her look fierce they didn't even try, instead she was cute in a pink dress with a silk petticoat, a large pink bow on her head, white stockings and polished black shoes with miniature pink bows on them. Even Rose, despite her ambitious desire for ratings and attention, was too won over by her cuteness to try and make her cry or quiver. She kept the interview gentle and merry, cheering up the young girl.

When it was Dixon's turn he was calm, remarking that it had to be someone who was picked and that he bore no ill grudges about the matter. He called Mallory 'an able and worthy ally and opponent' but could not bring himself to attempt to say anything else about her, anything nice would be a lie and anything mean might result in her coming after him first. He was a better speaker than Sparky and as clever as Elysia though he lacked Basil's wit and Simon's charm.

When Mallory followed she received some of the attention that Crystal and Silver had, her stylists had made her look every inch the temptress in black and red, her dress was long, purposely loose to hide her still protruding bones with a high, black collar of lace and black gems, along with lace gloves and a black choker with a ruby in it. She could have been a countess, powerful, rich and potentially dangerous. Though she was a lot less vain that Cadence and more pleasant than Star she was still curt and frosty, making Rose tire of her quickly. The spectators like Mallory though, she had a ruthlessness about her that they longed to see and she was happy to smile and wave at them, showing herself to know when and how to use her hostile nature.

When the interview was done Nicky was tired and frustrated. Though he tried not to show it he slumped too easily in the chair out of weariness and he was incapable of properly concealing his anger and fear. "I just feel for everyone," he murmured, "the two that died, those of us who will, it's hard."

"Indeed it is," Rose agreed though she didn't sound sincere, "but life is hard and challenging, and we must do what we can to survive it."

Nicky nodded glumly and was relieved when his interview ended and the last tribute was trotted out. Skylar was just as tired though she managed to keep herself pleasant and chirpy, but it wasn't enough to stir the audience from their own stupor. When her interview ended the applause was light and the murmurs quick to begin.

The tributes were hasty to head to bed, all too aware than in just ten hours they would be facing each other in an arena from which only one of them would leave alive.


	4. Chapter 4- Let the Games Begin

Tributes

District 1- Rudy Carson (15)

Crystal Mirrors (17)

District 2- Thorn Greendale (19)

Sukie Greendale (12)

District 3- Sparky Windles (16)

Elysia Stork (13)

District 4- Basil Vega (16)

Silver Rivers (17)

District 5- Simon Jackson (16)

Swift Brenhart (13)

District 6- Ferdinand Bell (15)

Velvet Diego (18)

District 7- Chuck Anors (18)

Jasmine Dark (15)

District 8- Bartley Pane (14)

Cadence Martez (18)

District 9- Gavin Hunter (13)

Star Pinark (16)

District 10- Ranger Penton (18)

Gabby Rownly (12)

District 11- Dixon Yugaro (14)

Mallory Banks (16)

District 12- Nicky Benstrom (13)

Skylar West (16)

The names of the tributes flickered across large screens placed throughout the Capitol, smaller screens in public buildings and private homes, and on the screens that dominated the courtyards of the Districts. After their names were their ages in brackets, a helpful reminder to those who would cruelly bet on their fates.

The tributes themselves were on a large airship being taken to the hidden location of the arena. All of them had been fitted with trackers, not just to monitor their movements but also to make it easier to locate their corpses. Soon they would disembark separately to reunite with their stylists once more for the final uniform fitting, and then they would go up in the arena to meet destiny.

Even Basil was subdued, though he still managed a bright grin to contrast Nicky's nervous frown and Rudy's deep set scowl. The tributes sat in twos, twelve on one side and twelve on the other, only Dixon and Sparky made any effort to study their opponents whilst most of them purposely avoided the other's eyes, opting to look at the floor or glance briefly at their fellow tribute. Crystal had managed to share a nod with Rudy and flicker a fleeting grin to Thorn on her left, small gestures that Dixon, who sat opposite Rudy, took note of. It had taken a lot of effort on Crystal's part to win Rudy over but she was not without her charm and she had persuaded him during several heated discussions in their shared apartment that allying would be for the best. Not too hot headed to think that he could manage alone, Rudy had consented to an alliance with the golden redhead though he had vowed to himself that it would only be temporary. He had then mentioned Thorn as a potential ally, trusting that Crystal would win the broody nineteen-year-old over.

Sparky decided as he glanced about the airship that Thorn, Rudy and Chuck were the ones to watch out for, Rudy was the highest scorer after all and Thorn hadn't done too badly either, winning himself an 8. If the blonde hadn't been somewhat sexist he might have considered Mallory a threat too, she was after all the second highest scorer with a 10 and did little to subdue her vicious stare. As it was he thought little of any of the females.

The airship landed at last in a bunker and the tributes filed out one by one. They found themselves in a large, well lit room where guards waited to escort them through different doorways. They were split into pairs first and then finally individuals before finding themselves in identical, small rooms with their stylists. The rooms consisted of pale lights on the walls, a table on which their uniforms sat, a full length mirror, a large clock with red digital figures, and, most curious of all, a glass tube wide enough for one person to step into. Their stylists explained that they had to wear the uniform and that when the clock had finished counting down they had to be on the platforms in the tubes. The tubes would take them to the arena; there they would wait on their platforms until another countdown ended, if they did not their platform would detonate and they would die. After that the stylists could explain no more, there would be weapons but it would be up to them to find them, it was up to them to fight, kill and survive.

The uniforms consisted of black, combat styled trousers, black boots, red tank tops for the girls and red t-shirts for the boys, and thin, waterproof, black raincoats. Nicky was nervous as he changed and fumbled with his sleeves, and Gavin was sweating as usual and his hands slipped awkwardly against his coat. Basil changed quickly with a thin smile, Sparky was methodical about it, studying his uniform briefly before putting it on, and Thorn was blunt and almost rough tugging his on.

The tubes opened when the clock reached ten seconds causing Swift to cry out in alarm and Gabby to give a worried moan. Simon was first in, darting in without hesitation and giving his enclosed surroundings a cool glance with his grey-green eyes. Basil was last, though he couldn't admit it he was claustrophobic and the thought of stepping into such a small space made him almost nauseous. He watched the clock count down nervously, sensing his stylists step closer as the clock hit five seconds. He shuddered as he felt them at his back, already he was trapped and soon the space would shrink. He swallowed hard at three seconds, jumped in awkwardly, smacking his nose lightly against the glass, and shut his eyes.

When the clock hit zero the tubes shot up without warning causing Cadence and Ferdinand to hit the floor in surprise. They seemed to travel quite a distance in a short space of time, for most of them the time flashed by but for Basil it felt like forever. When they stopped, Cadence stood up quickly and composed herself but Ferdinand remained sitting, too cautious about his platform exploding to stand. There was a light wind, it was the first thing Silver noticed before she realised she was facing her own worst fear, heights.

All the platforms had hooked onto thick metal poles that linked up to a thicker one in the centre, the tubes were gone and the tributes were left suspended in a circle, so high in the air they were above most trees. Sukie let out a nervous squeak and Bartley paled slightly.

"What the hell is this?" Rudy wondered aloud.

Dixon squinted as the wind made his eyes watery; he looked to the centre post and saw bundles of what looked like rope resting on it. He raised one hand to shelter his eyes and thought he could see shadows that indicated ridges on the post. 'We have to climb down,' he realised as he turned numb. He looked down at his platform and the thick post that connected it to the main pole, there was no rope.

Sparky was trying to work out how many people could fit on the main post, having guessed the same thing as Dixon. He estimated five, maybe six if two of them were the younger ones. He knew he would have to take it slow, he did not have the strength to pull himself across his pole quickly and maintain balance, but he suspected Thorn, Chuck and Rudy did. If he was as quick as them he risked an early battle and potentially premature death as they might simply push him off, but if he was slower there was every chance one of them might take all the rope, and then what? He wondered if the rope was secured to something, yes it would have to be, otherwise how would it help? So that would make it impossible to steal since no one had any weapons yet, so he would be slow, at least slower that the potentially more dangerous tributes.

"Ten seconds." The voice, Quinn's, caused several of them to jump in surprise. "Nine." She continued the countdown in a calm, clear voice.

Thorn looked to Sukie and gave her a reassuring smile though inside he burned with worry. He couldn't help her to the main pole, she would have to do it herself but she was so small, would she make it? She had to, they both had to. Wasn't this too dangerous? Did they want all the tributes to plummet to their deaths and end the games so soon?

Cadence looked at the steel post before her and cursed inwardly, her nails were definitely going to get chipped.

"Three. Two. One. Zero." A quick siren sounded. For a moment no one moved, instead they looked at each other, this was it, the last time all of them would be alive. They were strangers, they had no reason to love or loathe one another and yet into an arena they would go to slaughter each other. Twenty-four players but only one winner, how could it be real? How could anyone be so cruel as to have thought this up? It was Simon who came to the realisation first, they were not heroes or martyrs to be, they were merely pawns on a board, moving against their will in a manoeuvre that the Capitol knew would gain them victory over the rebels of Panem.

It was Jasmine who moved first, coming from the lumberjack district, though her skills were in crafting the wood she had still been up trees many times. Height did not bother the brunette, this she knew she could handle. She got down on her hands and knees, locked her feet and hands together tightly around the post and began to pull herself across. The bar was ice cold and the wind did not help, but she gritted her teeth and forced herself on. The distance was not so great, Titus had ordered that it was only twelve feet; she knew she would make it.

Not wanting to be out done, Cadence let out a loud curse before getting down on her hands and knees and following suite.

As if in a trance, the others watched, except for Silver who had sat down, closed her eyes and was now muttering to herself.

When Jasmine made it and immediately stood up and rushed to a bundle of rope Rudy, Crystal, Swift, Mallory, Ferdinand, Velvet and Star all began moving. Crystal and Rudy exchanged a glance and a nod before moving at the same time. Gabby looked to Ranger but his gaze was on the others, watching curiously as they moved.

"Get moving Sukie," Thorn called out to his sister before he started to kneel.

Sukie looked to her brother nervously before gingerly getting down on all fours.

"Silver are you ready?" Basil called over to his female companion with a grin. Now that he was out in a wide space his nerves had faded.

Silver bristled at the fifteen-year-old's voice and ignored it as she hugged herself.

"Come on darling," he shouted to her, "it's time to get going."

"Someone's scared," Simon remarked tauntingly.

"Don't see you crawling pretty boy," Ranger shot back with equal mockery in his voice.

Simon spared the taller male a glare before he pointedly started to move along his pole.

"Silver it's kind of cold up here," Basil yelled, "and I don't want some bird crapping on me."

Silver lowered her arms and glowered across at the younger male. "Go yourself!" she snapped at him. "Just go!"

Basil folded his arms and smirked at her. "Without you babe? That's nuts."

Sparky rolled his eyes dismissively and looked at the main pole. The ropes were attached to iron rings, Cadence had knotted hers about her waist as had Jasmine and they had begun descending. Sparky watched as Rudy and Crystal exchanged some brief words and looked to Sukie and Thorn. 'They're going to wait for them,' the blond realised as he gritted his teeth. 'And I'll just have to wait until they're gone.' He zipped his coat up tight and bundled his arms under his armpits, it was getting cold up here.

Swift let out a scream of terror when her feet seemed to give way and clanged against the post jarringly. Everyone tensed up and those not crawling looked her way in horror. They watched as the thirteen-year-old fought for balance and then seemed to right herself. She clung to the post tightly for a moment and gave a gasp of relief before moving on, slower. She grasped the main post at last and a sob of relief escaped her just as Sukie's hands slipped and her chin smacked off the post. The twelve-year-old rolled to the right and for a moment it looked like she was done for. Suddenly Crystal threw herself forward and reached out with both hands, just managing to grasp the girl's coat as she slipped off. Both girls went down as Rudy lurched out to grab Crystal's legs and keep her up.

Crystal found herself suspended over the edge of the post looking at the wide blue eyes of a horrified child. She felt herself swing sickeningly as her heart began to pound against her chest and her arms grew sore with the strain of holding Sukie. She winced as she felt two hands begin to drag her up and her chest smacked off hard metal. When she was secure the hands immediately released her to grab at Sukie, relieving her of the weight.

Sukie sobbed as she was pulled up against her brother and grabbed him in relief with a quiver. Thorn cradled her for a brief moment before looking to Crystal with surprise and gratitude. "Thank you," he said sincerely.

Crystal gave the older man a faint smile, her heart was still pounding and she was only just managing to suppress shakes. "You're welcome," she answered gently.

"I can't climb down," Sukie stammered, "I can't."

"You can," Thorn said sincerely, "look you'll have a rope so you won't fall. I'll fasten you to me so we'll climb together."

Sukie nodded and wiped away her tears quickly. Crystal looked to Rudy who was already busying himself with a rope. She headed over to him and seized another rope. "Thanks," she said gratefully.

Rudy nodded as he fastened the rope tightly about himself. "Let's get going," he muttered. 'Bet we ruined the entertainment there,' he thought darkly, 'we're meant to be killing each other not saving each other.'

"I'm not going," Silver spat out. "I'm not."

"Well you'll freeze or starve here if you don't," Basil pointed out seriously. There was only him, Silver, Skylar and Bartley on the posts and Skylar and Bartley were making a move. "Look this is it, the game has begun, we have to go."

"You can't make me!" she shrieked. "You can't!"

Basil sighed, grumbled a curse and looked about himself curiously, wondering where the cameras were. 'Are they getting this?' he wondered angrily. 'Are they zooming in on her tears? Did they watch as that kid almost died? Bet that's getting them some ratings.' "Then you lose Silver," he muttered as he knelt down at last.

Silver looked up at his words and watched as he began to crawl. Her heart was racing against her ribcage like an excited bird, this was just too much. She would fall, she knew she would. Yet if she did sit here, then what? Would they blow up her platform? Would they let her starve? She swallowed hard and leaned forward, she couldn't lose, she never lost at anything. Seeing only a blur of greenness below she began to tremble. "I have to do this," she muttered, "I have to." She stretched out and wrapped her hands around the post, then her feet. For a moment she was frozen, this was insane, this was impossible! 'The others have done it,' she thought, 'even the kids. I can do it, I can.' She began to move, horribly slow but it was still progress.

Ferdinand's hands were growing slick with sweat as he moved at a snail's pace, this was definitely nerve wrecking, no doubt about that. The normally unkempt looking boy found himself smiling nervously as he cursed inside his head and tried not to think about the drop below. Of course that was impossible, there only was the drop below to think about, and the would be murderers waiting up ahead. Now what exactly was the guarantee that one of them wouldn't wrestle or shove him off the edge? Alright so high scorers Rudy and Mallory were climbing down, but anyone of them was capable of turning, right? He recalled his grandfather, a sweet man until the Dark Days, then suddenly mistrustful, bitter and greedy. What few rations he managed to keep he refused to spare, when Ferdinand and his sisters wanted to visit he refused to allow them entry, convinced that they would tell on him. 'Tell what?' Ferdinand pondered bitterly. 'What was he hiding? Anything? Was he really just that paranoid?' His grandfather had died alone choking on a stale pea; it had been on a Sunday afternoon, ordinarily a time when Ferdinand, his siblings and parents would have had him over for a small lunch. 'He shouldn't have died like that,' he thought moodily, 'and we shouldn't die like this.'

They all made it. Silver was last and found herself sharing the post with a proud Basil, who slapped her on the back before handing her some rope, a cold eyed Sparky, a nervous Gabby and a hesitant Bartley. Before Basil's arrival Sparky had taken time to survey below them, mostly all he could see was trees though the boundary of the woods didn't seem to stretch out too far, but to the left he had made out a small hill and on it something gold was sparkling.

"Hurray for us," Basil enthused, "now let's get climbing down this beanstalk."

"Beanstalk," Silver grumbled with a frown as she fastened the rope about herself. 'I'm going to piss myself when we get down,' she thought dryly.

They began to move, using the carefully placed metal chunks on the post for their feet to rest on and their hands to grip. Crystal had managed to slip off and twice and found herself swinging ungracefully before she managed to grip hold of a metal chunk. Her scowls and inelegant swinging had made Ranger and Simon both snicker as they neared her. It had assured everyone else within range however that the danger of falling was largely over.

Silver began to climb down with Basil, pausing repeatedly to shut her eyes and quake.

"Just don't look down and keep going," Basil advised as he patiently paused with her.

Velvet cursed when one of the metal chunks came loose in her hand causing her to swing free and smack her chin off another. She wondered dully as she tasted blood as she bit her tongue in the process if the rope was long enough to reach the bottom. If so then why bother with trick stones? Simply for entertainment? 'Well this is a game show,' she reminded herself with a sigh.

Gavin's green eyes suddenly went wide. He felt his rope going loose, the feeble knot he had tied was coming undone. He released the metal chunks to hasten for it and instead found himself swinging outwards. His body jerked down suddenly and he let out a scream. He halted briefly and his eyes met Swift's before the rope gave way. "MUMMY!" he shrieked as he began to fall.

"Shit," Cadence cursed as she pulled herself against the post as he fell past her in a blur.

Down and down, only Sparky dared to lean out and watch the boy's descent, looking on with a cold curiosity. He was dismayed when the body vanished into the trees, preventing him from seeing the actual demise.

"What was that?" Silver demanded as she tensed up again. "Was that a scream?" She looked at Basil with alarm.

"Who knows?" the boy answered dismissively. "Keep going and we'll find out."

'Did someone just die?' Ranger wondered in surprise as he kept climbing. He had been too high above Gavin to properly realise what had happened. He had heard a couple of screams but that was it. As he lowered himself he spotted the now slack rope, hanging in midair. 'Someone's dead,' he realised coolly. It seemed too sudden and too soon, surely it wasn't meant to be like this, surely this was not entertaining. He swallowed down his revulsion and kept going. 'Dead is dead,' he told himself, 'nothing can be done about it now.'

Jasmine was first to reach the bottom. She sprang off the post lithely and glanced about her surroundings, pacing round the post as she did. There was one clear path through the trees, it seemed the obvious direction to take, making her wonder if it was a trap. 'Where are the weapons?' she wondered. 'And supplies?' She could hear Cadence approaching with an unimpressed grunt, two of her nails had broken.

"What now?" Cadence queried in a bored tone as she jumped off gracefully and immediately smoothed down her dark locks.

Jasmine looked to the taller woman nervously; they were enemies, weren't they? She turned in the opposite direction of the path and sprinted off, deciding that she wasn't going to wait and find out who was foe and who was friend.

"You weren't interesting anyway," Cadence muttered as she watched the carpenter run. She looked to the path and strode forward boldly, the last thing she wanted to do was traipse through a forest and risk her hair getting tangled in branches.

As the rest descended they began to split off in different directions, those who had observed the spark of gold on the hill followed the path, whilst those who had not been as observant wandered into the woods. Swift was shaking when she dropped off the post, she hugged herself tightly and tensed up, too horrified to move. That boy had died; he was from the grain district, now he was dead. 'He looked at me,' she thought in horror, 'he looked right at me and then he fell.'

Ranger dropped down and strode towards the path purposely. Seeing that the ground was close, Gabby scrambled to catch up to him, falling with a gasp before she started to run. Ranger heard her following but did not react, if she wanted to be his shadow he wouldn't stop her for now but he wouldn't help her either.

In total ten of them made it to the hill. It was short with smooth grass on it, no flowers, no trees and no rocks; it looked like an easy climb. As they started to ascend they began to make out the features of the item on top, it was large, golden and coiled, shaped like a horn it was short and high at one end with a large opening at the other. Swift footed Cadence was the first to reach it and see that it was a cornucopia but instead of offering fruits and vegetables it held backpacks and weapons in its opening. She hurried forward, tensing up when she heard a click and felt a small patch of ground sink beneath her feet. She jumped off the patch, halted and looked about warily. There was a low hissing sound and she could just make out tiny steel points rising up from the ground within the cornucopia. It was booby trapped.

Sparky, one of the last to reach the cornucopia, halted when he saw Cadence bolting off with a backpack. 'Why such a rush?' he wondered. 'I know she was a good bit ahead of me but did she really take any time deciding what to grab?'

Bartley cried out to the beauty when she sprinted past him but she ignored him. Eager to keep sight of her, he raced to the mouth of the cornucopia for his own prize. There were nun chucks, sickles, crossbows, knives, swords, scythes, kamas, maces, manrikis, shields, batons and other melee weapons, as well as folded up sleeping bags, blankets and what he guessed were tents, bottles of water, sachets of food and other objects. Before he could decide what to take he heard a whistling in the air. He jerked back just in time to avoid his arm being severed off by Star's sword. Luckily for him the sixteen-year-old was clumsy with the weapon. He looked at her with wide, brown eyes before ducking and staggering back to avoid her next swing. He tripped over one of the steel points in the ground with a curse, dodging yet another blow as he fell.

Gabby watched, petrified, as Star raised the sword to bring down a killing blow. Suddenly smoke rushed out of the steel point, shooting into the sixteen-year-old's face. She gave a scream of shock and pain and Bartley took the chance to roll, stand and run for it.

The others looked about in alarm as smoke gushed out of the other points; Crystal shrieked when clear drops spattered out with the smoke and struck her skin, instantly inflaming her cheeks. She glanced only once to Rudy before running for it, rubbing her cheeks as she did.

Those that remained, Ranger, Gabby, Rudy, Thorn, Sukie and Sparky quickly seized what they could and fled. Star staggered about, blinded from the liquid sprayed in her eyes, and gave a low moan. Her eyes and face burned and her skin had turned a blistering red.

"A great idea," Quinn marvelled, "otherwise they all might get weapons, or some might make their base there and have too much of an advantage."

"You know," Titus commented as he frowned at the split screens that stretched high and long across an entire wall, "I don't want them all to be killed by us. They are meant to be killing each other in there."

Quinn rolled her eyes at him. "It's harmless," she commented dismissively, 'the blindness and burning will wear off in a couple of hours. Then in four hours the spraying will stop, it's just meant to be a deterrent that's all."

"Still," Titus murmured, "if they're all crippled in some fashion it will make it harder for them to kill each other." He turned to the wall where the tributes' faces were displayed; Gavin's had a large red cross over it. In just under an hour a cannon would sound, the Capitol's theme would play and his face would be suspended above the arena in a hologram form, the purpose wasn't just to inform the tributes who had died but to remind them that they were in a life and death situation.

"It's a pity about that kid," Gaius dared to comment as he followed Titus' gaze. He was seated at a round table in which a hologram of the arena was shown in white and silver lights. Red dots with names beside them indicated where the tributes were. Sensing Quinn's glower and seeing Titus' curious glance he added, "just that he went so soon. Would have been nice to see if he could have fought."

"Unlikely," Quinn muttered, "he looked like a runt."

"The female from his district is the one who attacked there," Titus murmured as he gave Quinn a look of displeasure and folded his arms, "it would be annoying if she died next."

Quinn pursed her lips and bit back an insult, reminding herself that though he might be her junior in age Titus was still her head. "She won't," she assured coldly before whirling round to face the screens, which showed what the many cameras in the arena were currently filming. "That girl from 8 is a marvel and the one from 7 shows potential."

"We'll see how they cope until dusk," Titus remarked. "Give them time to adjust before we take action."

'Well that's not entertaining,' Quinn thought in annoyance as she clenched her hands slightly.


	5. Chapter 5- Trust

Rose Rample beamed into the camera with all white teeth save for one of the top front ones that had a ruby encrusted gold cap around it. She was wearing a sleek black, poker straight wig that hung just past her ears with gold droplets hanging from it and a cluster of fine gold netting with pearl set on the top of it. Her skin had been bronzed; her eyelids smudged in bronze with heavy black eyeliner that flicked outwards and beside each eyebrow were three tiny, red gems. Her outfit was a mixture of golds and bronzes, with a gigantic bow on her right side stretching up at an angle from her waist to just below her shoulder and a mimic of tight chainmail about her slender waist.

"Well folks as you have just witnessed we have lost our first tribute, Gavin Hunter of District 9 and what a way to go!" she announced cheerfully.

In every district Rose's commentary was being broadcast live and the district members had been herded up to watch it. In District 9 Gavin's mother had burst into animalistic wails when the image of him screaming for her as he fell to his death was broadcast in large, horrible, technicolour glory. When the sound of a cannon had boomed she had fainted. The other tributes had heard the ominous sound as they had scattered from the cornucopia or through the woods, it had sent a chill through most of them and caused confusion for those who had either not been told by their escorts what it meant or had simply forgotten. A late addition by Titus, the escorts had only been informed of it shortly after the interviews and some had found their tributes too tired to listen to the latest update in the games. For each death a cannon would sound and in the sky a hologram of the deceased would briefly flicker as the anthem of the Capitol played. It was a morbid show, as if the tribute had died a brave soldier of the Capitol rather a victim of its pitiless mechanisms.

"What a surprise from Gavin's fellow tribute though, almost making up for his early loss; Star Pinark could be the one to watch!" Rose turned excitedly to a screen beside her and chirped, "let's watch that attempt to end District 8's male tribute again!" The camera zoomed in on the image of Star angrily trying to cut Bartley with her sword before zooming out just as the girl was temporarily blinded. Rose turned back once more with a wide smirk. "Now nine of the tributes successfully went to the cornucopia and got weapons but let's not count out the other fourteen, after all tributes need more than a weapon to survive, who knows what the climate could hold for them. Plus, if one has enough wits then they could get by with the resources around them. Let's not forget sponsors!" She gave the camera a serious look. "That's right; if there's a tribute you like then help them out! Send them something useful, like food, water, medicine, clothes or a weapon if you can afford it, but don't delay because as the game goes on the prices go up!"

It had grown dark though none of the tributes could be sure if it was really night time or not, even Sparky was unsure as to how many hours he had been in the arena already. The sky had turned into a soft blend of deep sapphire, sable and dark violet; there were no stars, moon or clouds indicating just how unnatural it was. The temperature had dropped too and the light raincoats did little to help anyone deal with the cold.

Swift and Elysia, who had fled into the trees together, were now wandering about what appeared to be a swamp. There were patches of foreboding pools of thick, murky, greenish-brown liquid that had turned an inky black as the light had faded. A thin, grey mist seemed to hover over them and occasionally they heard a squelch as if something had sank into one of them. The trees here had low, thin looking, black branches and appeared to be dead, there were no leaves, fruits or flowers on them and it was evident that they would offer no shelter. Uneasy, the girls had walked until they had at last found a small clearing of a bald patch of dirt with a couple of spiky bushes around it. Here they had settled and Elysia had begun to use their natural resources to make traps.

The traps were sloppy at best, involving bent down branches held down with rocks, and loops made from flexible vines that lurked near the swamp pools. When the last of their light had finally gone the thirteen-year-old had given up and retired beside her new friend for an uneasy rest. They now lay side by side, holding hands and jumping nervously at every sound in the night. Somewhere out in the gloom were people who would be very likely to kill them. Shivering, they coiled up closer for warmth and shuddered as they both feared that only death would come for them in the dark.

It was two hours later that they heard a snap and a loud curse. Someone had been caught in one of their traps! They jumped up in alarm and looked to each other fearfully in the gloom, Elysia's heart hammered wildly against her chest whilst Swift's breaths came out short and uneven. The struggling of whoever was caught had stopped and now there was only the hissing of the bogs in the eerie night air. They waited for what felt like hours though were only a couple of minutes, listening tentatively to their enemy, their victim, or, Elysia dared hoped, their possible ally. "We need a light," she whispered. She pushed her thin framed, round glasses close to her nose and glanced to the left. "I think the noise came from over there," she murmured.

"I think I can make a light," Swift offered hesitantly. She was from the power district and unused to natural resources but when the Dark Days had been at their worst and the power was gone her family had been forced to learn how to rough it, these skills her eldest brother had attempted to pass down to her, as he refused to believe that the rebellion would end in peace. Though she had not been able to learn much she recalled him mentioning rubbing sticks together or banging rocks to create a spark that could light some kindle. She put her hands on the ground, feeling about carefully for sticks or rocks.

"Should we?" Elysia wondered aloud quietly. "I mean...it could be one of the mean ones. That boy from one or the artist." She glanced to the left nervously but could see nothing in the darkness.

Swift had seized upon two sturdy sticks triumphantly and was beginning to rub them together. She winced as her palms began to turn raw and a splinter embedded itself in her right one as she tried to rub faster. "Quick," she urged her friend, "there's smoke I think, I need something to light."

It was Elysia's turn to feel about the ground quickly and she winced as her left palm sank into the shallow part of a bog. She withdrew it instantly and rubbed it against a rough patch of grass before grabbing a stick. She then snatched up as much grass as she could and wrapped it around the stick clumsily, using the longer strands to knot the bits together before holding it down to the small glow Swift had created.

The girls only just managed to hold back a cry of joy as the stick was lit with a sallow yellow flame. "Let's see who we've caught," Elysia decided, "they're in a trap so it's safe."

"What if they escaped?" Swift dared to wonder as the pair stood up, leaning close to the flame.

Elysia shook her head confidently as she held the stick forward into the gloom. "We would have heard them do it," she assured. She lowered the stick briefly to spy out the murky pools, they shone like oil, catching the yellow light and swallowing it into their thick liquid. "Careful," Elysia said as she stepped forward.

Swift's feet caught twice in the mud but only briefly and she was able to yank them out and continue on without much delay. They moved as quietly as they could, well aware that their small torch was a clear signal to anyone out there.

They spied two traps not yet triggered, prompting Elysia to wonder if the sound really had come from the left. She swung the torch about curiously, freezing in alarm when Simon's stare was reflected back in the faint light. The District 5 tribute was hanging upside down by a loop of thick vine wrapped about his right ankle. The blood had rushed to his head and he was dizzy now, letting out small, shallow breaths as he tensed up at the sight of the flame. His vision was slightly blurred but he managed to pick out Swift in the dark and relaxed slightly.

"It's Simon," Swift hissed out in recognition as the torchlight picked out the auburn sheen to his hair.

"Did you make this trap?" Simon queried. "It's quite good," he commented sardonically. 'It really is,' he thought to himself, 'or maybe I'm just a fool, bet I look like one to whoever is watching this. Probably won't get many sponsors now if I live through this.'

"What should we do?" Swift wondered aloud. Simon had not been friendly to her during their brief time together but he had not been nasty either, he had seemed a moody boy, angry at his situation but not the people caught up in it with him. The thirteen-year-old had no idea if he would pose a threat to them or not.

"I won't hurt you," he assured as he winced slightly and tried to raise his chin slightly, his head was beginning to throb and the dizziness was worsening, he would black out soon. "I couldn't hurt kids. I was just trying to find shelter." It was a partial truth; he had seen the District 1 and 2 pack just as the sky had started to grow darker and made a point of going in the opposite direction. He had no intention of being the first victim of that pack and it was clear from Rudy's hungry stare that the blonde at least was looking for his first kill.

"Well this is our shelter," Elysia said boldly as she clutched the torch tightly. Right now it was the girls' only weapon and she was well aware of that.

"That's okay," Simon retorted agreeably, "I can go elsewhere. Look, cut me down and I'll leave, I promise."

The girls looked to each other questionably and Swift murmured, "I think we should. I don't think he's armed, and maybe he's like us, maybe he just wants to stay out of it."

"Well..." Elysia looked back at the older boy; he hadn't struck her as dangerous like the cold eyed Mallory and vicious Rudy. "Alright, but you go after," she addressed Simon as she stepped up to where the other end of the vine was pinned down by rocks.

"I'll go," Simon agreed.

"Get ready," Elysia said as she held the torch up to the vine.

In under a minute there was a cry of alarm and a loud thump as Simon hit the ground gracelessly, followed by a groan.

"Are you alright?" Swift queried with genuine concern.

The man tried to sit up but his vision swayed and flickered from the night's black to a different kind of darkness. "Give me a minute," he grumbled, "I'm dizzy," he added before Elysia could argue. He slumped slightly and let out a sigh. 'Get up,' he urged himself, 'don't look weak, especially not before kids. Damnit they could kill you now, two little girls, and it's all on camera. Get up.' He pushed himself upright to his knees but kept his head bowed as the blood began to flow normally again. He could hear a low ringing in his ears and his heart was still pumping quicker than normal, he needed to just be calm for a minute. 'I look like a joke,' he thought angrily, 'just as well some keen sponsor sent me a gift before this mess, don't think I'll get many after.'

Swift and Elysia leaned close to one another nervously, keeping their stares on Simon. Swift had hardly known the older boy back in District 5, she recalled how he had usually been bruised and scowling, her brother had commented twice how his father was 'a bastard' but Swift had never made the connection until a few months ago. Like many girls in the district she had felt a certain attraction towards the sixteen-year-old, in fact truth be told he was her first crush, a fact that made her blush even now in the bleakness. She had always watched him from afar when given the chance, hanging by the school gates for as long as she could, behind a cluster of other eager girls, waiting to glimpse the usually late arrival. Yet she had never had the courage to speak to him properly, not even when a cruel fate had thrown them together.

Elysia was shivering, the night had grown colder and the torch in her hands was only reminding her of that rather than warming her. She did not think even sharing body heat with Swift would be enough to allow her to sleep through it now. A fire was out of the question though, tempting as it was with a torch already lit.

"You should put that out," Simon suggested gruffly as he eyed the flickering flame. "Others might see it."

"Well we have traps," Elysia reminded him curtly, reluctant to put the torch out just yet.

Simon felt a flare of dislike for the girl as she reminded him; purposely he was certain, of his folly. "Indeed," he muttered, "but nonetheless, the torch is dangerous."

"There are swamps here," Elysia pointed out, "it will be hard for us to navigate through them without the light."

"Got a camp?" Simon queried.

"No," Swift admitted, "just a safer patch of land. You could join us," she offered suddenly, earning a glower from her newest friend. "It's just it's dark and you...well..." Her cheeks burned darker. "It will be hard for you to find your way."

"He promised to leave," Elysia reminded her, less eager to suddenly trust the auburn haired boy.

"He's bigger than us," Swift whispered to her as she gave her a reassuring look, "maybe he could help us."

"Maybe," Elysia answered quietly though reluctance still shone in her magnified gaze.

"I won't impose," Simon replied, "though I appreciate the offer. It is dark but we're not really in a situation where one should show kindness to strangers." He staggered to his feet hastily and pushed back his fringe from his face.

"We're not strangers," Swift reminded him as she looked his way once more, thankful that he could not see her blushes.

He gave a faint smile and said wistfully, "I suppose not."

Elysia knew that the torch would burn out soon and leave them all in darkness; a decision had to be made. 'We're all meant to be enemies,' she thought warily, 'yet Swift has been my friend here, could she really kill me? I could never kill her or anyone else,' she realised as she looked to Simon. 'Could he?' She trembled at the thought, only one winner, only one. "Come on," she said, "it's not much though."

Simon nodded, realising he could not navigate through the swamp on his own in darkness; he would have to take a chance with the children. 'Depending on kids,' he thought to himself moodily as he started to follow, 'way to look brave. Still, what else can I do? I'm lucky they're nice enough to help, or foolish, depending on what way you look at it. This is so cruel, all of us here pitted against each other, why should it be this way? These two are young and how are any of us trained to cope with this arena?' he added to himself bitterly.

'One winner,' Elysia thought anxiously, 'just one. I will never see my family again, not my mother or brothers.' She shook again as they neared the small patch of dry grass where she and Swift had been resting. 'Or my books, I still have so many to read and so much to learn. This can't be the end, it can't!'

"This is it," Swift explained to Simon shyly as she looked over her shoulder at him in the dark.

"It's good," he forced himself to enthuse. 'It's bloody freezing,' he thought to himself as he hugged his hands under his armpits and tried to suppress his shivers. 'No blankets, no tents, well no surprise there, and I can't leave, not until there is some decent light. Well no sleep then, great, suppose I shouldn't sleep with two kids I hardly know nearby anyway, doubt they have weapons but who knows?' He sat down, crossed his legs and folded his arms tighter against his torso.

Swift moved to Elysia and sat down beside her, reaching her for free hand as she snubbed out the torch at last. Complete darkness again, it was terrifying for all of them. Coming from the power and technology districts none of them had ever known the true ebony oblivion a night could bring, there were always factories humming somewhere and soiling the sky with light pollution. Always a building had lights on in its windows and worn street lamps with cracked glass glowed dimly. This kind of blackness was foreign and unnerving.

Swift huddled closer to Elysia and dared to let out a yawn, she was exhausted and beginning to feel a small prickle of hunger that she tried to ignore. How long would this go on for? 'Will they call it off?' she pondered hopefully. 'Surely being here is punishment enough, we don't need to kill each other. Perhaps it really is just a game.'

Simon reached briefly for the small knife sheathed in his back trouser pocket, running his fingertips along the scratched blade reassuringly. A gift from a lusting sponsor, the most expensive gift to enter the arena so far, it was small and aged but still sharp. He released it again and lay flat on his back, securing the dagger beneath his own weight. He would not sleep, just rest for a moment, he was tired after all and his muscles were sore and he was mildly lightheaded. Yes, take a moment to recover and wait for light. 'Let someone else kill the kids if they must,' he thought bitterly, 'I can't. It's just too barbaric, they don't deserve it, none of us do but they're so young.'

Scruffy Ferdinand Bell was nervous, he contemplated that things could be worse, his uniform could itch, he could be facing a kid with a weapon or he could be cold and wet instead of just cold. He had found sanctuary on a small island with a shallow moat around it, which he had crossed just as the sky had turned to shades of pink, indigo and violet and the light source had started to fade. The island had strange looking plants on it, giant flowers with six pale leaves of blue, heavy, motionless vines that sagged about prickly bushes like lazy snakes, and a couple of thin looking trees with a few wilting leaves on them. If there was a purpose to this island other than a feeble shelter he could not guess at it.

He had settled down for the evening against one of the trees, zipping his black raincoat up tight, though the temperature was moderate. Though tired he was reluctant to close his eyes, he was alone on the island but not in the arena, somewhere out there were twenty-three, no wait, twenty-two other people who, like him, were going to have contemplate killing each other. 'One of us is dead now,' he thought dully as he rubbed his messy hair. In truth he was not that bothered, he had not known the kid and could not remember his name, better him than Ferdinand at any rate, and it had been a fall, not a murder. 'Is anyone really going to kill in here?' he wondered.

He peered out into the gloom wondering what else was in the arena- animals, mutts, other weird plants? Perhaps something even stranger and more deadly. There were noises in the air, low whistles and humming, he supposed it could be birds or insects, and worried that it was something worse.

The mechanic tensed when he heard a low snap in the air, a branch giving way but to what? He tried to still his breathing and resisted looking about him; it would only create noise and was pointless anyway given how dark it was. When no more unusual sounds followed after a few minutes he relaxed slightly. 'I wish I was back home fixing a car,' he thought mournfully, 'I miss the smell of oil already.'

He jumped up when he heard a light splash followed by a squeal of surprise. There was someone out there! Who though? Someone who had not sensed the water evidently. He heard another splash, louder this time, baffling to him as it implied the water was deeper than it was.

"Help me!"

Ferdinand was about to rush towards the sound when it occurred to him that it might be a trap, some clever lure by one of the other tributes. When he heard louder, frantic splashes he began to doubt and wondered once more why the water sounded deeper.

"There's something biting at me! If someone's out there help me! Help!"

It was a girl but that all Ferdinand knew, he could not place the voice, all he determined without doubt was that it was not Velvet, and he did not think it sounded like one of the kids, no definitely older. So the hot chick, the psycho, or one of the others? He did not even think he could recall names, well the hot chick was Cadence, he wouldn't forget her name in a hurry but her name was the only one that stood out, then there was the babe from District 4 whose hair had been mucked up by her stylists, she wouldn't do well trying to camouflage, who else? He began to panic himself as the girl started to scream. Enemy or ally? Friend or foe? What should he do?

"I'm coming!" he yelled out dumbly before running to the sounds. He misjudged where the edge of the island was and gave his own shriek as he stepped not into shallow waters but instead found himself plunging into a lukewarm pool. He shot up immediately, gasping for air and floundering his long limbs carelessly. Worried for his own safety now, he turned blindly in the dark trying to find the shore again but he could see nothing.

There was a low splash near him and he was certain a large streak of water moved near his right. Next something brushed against his left foot, rough skinned and large. The mechanic swallowed down a yell of terror and tried to stay still. He had no experience with being in the water though and was doubtful that he could even swim. He kept moving, trying just to keep afloat as he swallowed several gulps of water, it was clean at least.

The girl's screams were still echoing through the night, she was near to Ferdinand and as he bobbed about he found himself getting splashed by her. "Stop it!" he snapped. "You're drawing these things to us!" He turned white as he felt something brush just below both his feet this time.

"Who's out there?" the girl called. "Oh God who's there? What's in here? I've been bitten!"

"Ferdinand," he gargled as he submerged briefly below the surface before struggling up again. 'Why did I try to be heroic?' he scorned himself. 'Now I'm going to die for it!'

"Who?" She whirled about in the water until she was facing him, or at least thought she was facing him.

"Ferdinand," he repeated. "Look, the shore's not far, the water, it wasn't wide, just... start moving!" His last word came out as a shout as he felt a large form slam into his legs and send him careening forward.

Shrieks and screams both male and female took up into the air and were distantly heard by Jasmine Dark, Dixon Yugaro, Mallory Banks and Sparky Windles who were all unknowingly within close proximity of one another. Jasmine shuddered, Mallory rolled her eyes scornfully as she wondered who the stupid people were drawing attention to their location, and Dixon and Sparky remained stoic, coldly wondering what was going on. Sparky attempted to analyse the screams, and concluded that they were not war cries but yells of panic, the pair were both being attacked rather than attacking. He could guess no more than that however, though he tried to.

Elysia awoke to a purple tinged bluish glow of pre-dawn, the sun, if there was one in the arena's sky, had not risen but a faint light had started to appear. She could just make out the form of Swift beside her and Simon to her right. She eyed the male tribute warily, compared to Thorn and Ranger he was neither tall nor muscular but to Elysia he was big and an obvious threat. She sat up as carefully as she could and swallowed hard.

'A tribute is already dead,' she reminded herself, 'three in fact, those two from District 7, that girl...her head just seemed to explode.' She felt a wave of nausea fill her as she remembered Tempest Clarks' execution, it was not the first time the thirteen-year-old had seen someone die but it still had a chilling effect on her. There had been many killed in the Dark Days, including two cousins of hers, she remembered seeing them explode as a bomb hit their district, she had watched in horror as they had turned into so many bits of meat and gristle. 'Death is real,' she reminded herself, 'and this game is real. People have died and more will but I can't. I want to go home!'

She looked about her as quietly and carefully as she could and spotted a rock lying near a tree. It was a decent looking size, it would be heavy, and she would have to put all her strength into swinging it. She caught her thoughts for a moment, was she really thinking about it? She looked to Simon again, there could only be one winner, and he knew that as well as she did. Perhaps he had planned to wait for light before he killed them, trusting that they would not attack him first. He could so easily overpower the pair after all.

'Can't take a risk,' Elysia thought to herself as she crawled over to the rock. 'If I don't take my chance he will take his and kill us both.' She seized the rock with one hand and lifted it as quickly as she could with one hand. Yes it was heavy but she could swing it effortlessly enough. 'It will be instant,' she told herself, 'he won't feel a thing. He has to die, or he'll kill us, the others out there wouldn't be so kind.'

The thirteen-year-old trembled as she turned back to the slumbering sixteen-year-old. 'This isn't right!' she thought in horror. 'I can't do this! But...my family, my home, my books, I won't see any of it again! He will wake up and cut me down!'

Elysia stopped as close to Simon as she dared and took aim for his skull. She raised the rock and closed her eyes; she could not bear to see another head explode in blood.

"NO!" There was a painful crack and a loud animalistic cry of pain as the rock collided awkwardly with Swift's temple. Awakening to see her friend crawling towards Simon, she had roused herself rapidly. Seeing Elysia lift the rock Swift had lost all sense and simply thrown herself in its path, thinking only that Simon could not die. Not in his sleep, not so mercilessly!

Simon awoke with a start, pulling himself back and upright with alarmed grey-green eyes. He glanced briefly at Swift's twitching form and then at Elysia's horrified one.

"No, no, no, nnnooo," Elysia stammered in shock as she looked at Swift's blood soaked face. "Wasn't meant to happen," she choked out pathetically.

Simon took out his knife and held it forward defensively. 'What the Hell's happened?' he wondered in horror. 'What is this madness?'

Swift let out a moan of pain. Elysia dropped the rock in disgust, glanced up at Simon and let out a gasp of horror when she saw the knife in his hand. 'I was right, I was right!' she thought anxiously. She scrambled backwards on her feet and hands; she had to get away from the danger, away from the blood, just away! 'It's not meant to be this way!' she thought. 'It...she got in the way!' She stood up, turned and ran.

Simon did not pursue, he found himself transfixed by the whimpering and twitching Swift. She wasn't dead, this was beyond horrible, it was almost surreal. "What happened?" he asked aloud. "Damnit what happened?!" He glanced around him, up into the sky and about at the dead trees, certain that there were cameras hidden there somewhere. "Are you happy?" he roared in a moment of rage. Sure he had been determined to play, yes he had known people would die, but the kids...and to go so slowly, no he hadn't imagined this, hadn't thought that this would happen. He should have, instead he had sneered at the older players, eyed them as foes to be felled, but he hadn't considered how it would happen.

He looked back down at Swift. 'Why won't she die?' he wondered desperately as her eyes rolled about frantically and blood and saliva spilled down her lips. The blood was already turning sticky, the wound was deep though, and there was nothing the District 5 boy could do about it. He saw her right hand shaking and reached out with his free hand to still it. She was warm to the touch, shouldn't she be cold? 'She's not going fast enough!' He felt his heart pound against his chest loudly, he could not bear this! She was from his district though, she was his fellow tribute and she was only thirteen. 'A kid,' he thought dumbly, 'but not much younger than me really. This is horrid, I have to...'

Simon Jackson looked at his knife just once before plunging it down into Swift's throat and yanking hard. The blood spurted out quickly onto his knuckles and her eyes dimmed almost immediately. It was done, the girl from District 5, Swift Brenhart, was dead.


	6. Chapter 6- Hidden Dangers

If Titus had his doubts that muttation attacks in the dark were going to ruin good entertainment they were gone with the deadly end to the brief union of Simon Jackson, Elysia Stork and the late Swift Brenhart. The young Gamemaker had been in shock when an excited Quinn Rample had woken him from an uneasy slumber and urged him to tune into his own personal viewing of the games. Like all the Gamemakers he had a large screen in his room from which he could view the live, unedited games, using a remote to flip from camera to camera to see the Tributes as he pleased. He had tuned into Camera #112 in time to see Elysia dropping a bloodied rock and fleeing from a confused Simon and twitching Swift. The Gamemaker had been unsure what to think when Simon bellowed angrily at the sky, asking if 'they' were happy but when he had been forced to kill Swift, well the twenty-five-year-old was certain that even the hard to please Ivon would agree that this was not just entertaining but exactly the kind of message the Capitol wanted out there. Even your own cannot be trusted, anyone can kill and anyone can be killed.

"Edit the scene before it's broadcast," Titus instructed calmly as he picked up the flat, rectangular phone he had left lying on his desk whilst he had watched Simon's mercy murder. "I don't want people seeing him yelling at the cameras or how long it took him to kill that girl."

"Right," Quinn responded, sounding too happy for Titus' liking, "and the District 3 girl, we shouldn't have her saying that it wasn't meant to happen."

"Don't vilify her," Titus interrupted quickly. "We want the public to support her," he added hastily, "she did attempt to make a kill at least, that's what we're trying to promote." He held the phone away briefly so that Quinn could not hear his tired sigh, his slumber had been brief and uneasy at best and truthfully, he felt that the young girl had suffered enough, a thought sympathetic enough to trouble him. He was Head Gamemaker; he could not mess up this prestigious opportunity by pitying the Tributes. He brought the phone back in time to hear the ending of Quinn's moody consent. "That will be all for now," he murmured, "I'll be over in an hour." He hung up and resumed viewing the screen. Simon's grey-green stare was haunting and put Titus ill at ease, he picked up the remote and began flicking through the channels.

He wondered dully how the pair in the water were doing, Quinn had not mentioned any deaths so he had to assume they were alive, a pity in one sense since they were stupid enough to deserve a final end but good since it meant people might see them die in the glory of daylight. 'Well I could have ordered light to the water last night,' he admitted to himself, 'but I didn't want it to seem like we were helping them and Quinn said it was more suspenseful dark, though I think it got boring that way. Suppose it's been edited nicely so the public aren't bored by it.' He paused when the pair from District 4 appeared- the lanky, bold and perhaps stupid volunteer and the swimmer with the icy eyes. 'That stylist was a fool to give her those streaks,' Titus thought derisively as he eyed the silver streaks in her dark hair with mild disapproval. 'Although, they do suit her.'

The cannon had sounded about an hour after the dawn, at least Silver guessed it was an hour, it was what had awoken her from an uneasy sleep. Basil was already awake; the pair had slept in shifts throughout the night, wary of every sound and shadow near them. When the face of one of the kids had appeared in the sky followed by the Capitol's anthem, Basil had been dismayed and grumbled a hateful curse. Silver had felt no emotion, she had not known the girl, couldn't even remember which district she was from, and wasn't it better the kids went fast? Well it was inevitable at any rate.

The pair had stood after that and started to walk, they had spent the evening in a small, rundown shack, its purpose seemed only to be to offer a feeble shelter, the walls had kept out the worst of the draft but the roof had left them exposed and the rotting door offered little defence. Basil had suggested waiting it out there but Silver had dismissed as too obvious and insisted they start moving.

The seventeen-year-old told herself she was not bothered if Basil was with her or not, alone she might be safer even, yet it was good to have a companion she argued with herself, it was another pair of eyes and ears after all, and hopefully not an enemy until the numbers were whittled down some more. She knew little about the bold sixteen-year-old though and that made her uneasy, if she had not been tired she might not have even risked sleeping in his presence, but he had pointed out that it was he who had urged into her into clambering along the pole when they had been high up. If he had not wanted to be her ally, he would have abandoned her there. Besides, he had had to trust her when he had slept as well.

'Trust is such a fragile and fickle thing,' she thought to herself sardonically as they walked. They walked over short, rough patches of grass through tall, thin, white barked trees, which had no branches or leaves until at least fifteen feet up. All around them were squawks, hisses and other questionable sounds that seemed animal in origin.

"What's the plan?" Basil questioned cheerfully as he sidestepped a half-hidden rock.

Silver looked back at him coldly and shrugged. "We have no weapons and no supplies," she retorted carelessly, "so either we get them or we perish."

"So optimistic," Basil answered mockingly with a grin.

"Just realistic," Silver retorted bitingly as she looked about their surroundings. 'How big is this place?' she wondered. 'And what else is out there? Is it all wilderness? Maybe we could spend days without seeing anyone else, or any water for that matter, or maybe just hours.'

"I wonder what would happen if we all just refused to play?" Basil dared to ponder aloud.

"We would be killed probably," Silver answered with little concern, "hardly matters, two people are already dead, looks like no one is refusing."

"The first guy fell," Basil reminded her, "and maybe that girl was in an accident, who knows? If not, it only guarantees that one person is playing."

"One is all they need," Silver murmured darkly. She was already tiring of their conversation, it did not matter to her that the Gamemakers would hear, what more could they do anyway? She just simply did not see the point in conversing about it; they were in the arena now and there were only two ways out- die or survive.

"No," Basil argued, "just one isn't enough, one means it hasn't worked, that they cannot control us or mould us."

Silver sighed heavily and stopped walking to look at her taller companion. She rested her hands on her wide hips and glowered at him. "Is that why you volunteered?" she demanded heatedly. "To start another rebellion? To change the system? It's too late for that, newsflash Basil, the rebellion failed and it's why we are in here."

Basil looked back at her in surprise for a moment before murmuring quietly, "that's not why I volunteered." He turned from her and continued walking on.

Silver, though mildly curious about Basil's volunteering, was too angry to give him the satisfaction of pursuing a conversation. So the pair continued walking on in silence until the trees ended and they found themselves at the top of a rocky hill that led down to a collection of bushes and trees. The hill was short but steep and littered with sharp looking rocks and sunken boulders, which could easily trip up a careless wanderer.

"Do we continue?" Basil queried as he surveyed the landscape below. "Plants should mean water," he suggested hopefully. He smoothed back his unruly brown hair and looked to Silver.

"May as well keep going," she muttered.

They descended as slowly and carefully as they could, Silver stumbled twice and Basil tripped and fell once, cutting his lip in the process. It was a minor cut but the taste of blood made him feel nauseous. Silver noticed how he paled as he stood and wiped at his lip hastily and found herself asking, "are you alright?"

"Fine princess," he answered brightly, unwilling to admit his aversion to blood. It made him think of the many causalities he had witnessed during the Dark Days, the blood he had tasted when his right arm had been given a deep cut by a soldier's sword, and then the blood from the soldier himself when someone had stabbed him from behind, showering droplets onto the shocked Basil. He swallowed down a mouthful of bile, wiped at his lip again and forced himself to keep descending. He wondered if Silver had fought during the rebellion, if she had seen people die, well of course she had, they all had. Had she lost anyone? He decided to ask when they reached the bottom of the hill.

They made it down without any more injuries and stopped at the edge of the forest, if it was even big enough to be called that. The ground here looked suspiciously like sand, soft and golden in places, brown and white in others, Basil dismissed it as a strange soil, after all so few plants could grow in sand, certainly not this many. He looked to Silver once more and asked bluntly, "did you lose anyone?" He grinned bitterly. "I mean so many died in the rebellion, I suppose you did."

Silver stiffened at the question, pursed her lips and scowled before answering detachedly, "my younger sister Nadine and an uncle," she added the word 'uncle' coldly and fell silent.

"Oh, I'm sorry, how old was your sister?" Basil pried.

"Just three, she was in the warehouse, do you remember? They thought it would be safe, but the bomb hit..." She trailed off and started walking again, fixing an emotionless expression to her face.

"I remember," Basil answered softly as he started to walk with her, "and your uncle?"

"Someone stabbed him," she muttered calmly, "around the same time."

"That's horrible," Basil commented sincerely.

"Yeah," Silver glanced up at him and demanded, "what about you? Since you're prying why don't you share?"

"I lost people," Basil answered quietly, "my nan, she was feeble and when they started blasting the sea and food became scarce, she didn't last too long."

"And?" Silver queried caustically. 'If he wants details then so do I,' she thought, 'though why he wants to discuss this now...what's the point?'

Before Basil could answer he suddenly felt himself sink down without warning. He gave a cry of alarm as he found himself submerged to his waist in sand.

"Quicksand!" Silver cried out in horror as she stepped back from the patch of pale sand Basil had walked into unwittingly.

"Please help me out," the male requested calmly with a nervous smile.

Silver cursed as she looked about for something to help. The branches looked brittle and too short, they would never take his weight and there were no vines. She turned about desperately, cursing once more.

Basil tried to stay still as his heart hammered madly against his chest, he was confined, stuck, it was claustrophobic and he began to panic. His breaths came out rapidly, his eyes widened a fraction and he yelled, "quickly darling!" He couldn't move! His hands were up in the air, safe for now but tiring, he was sinking gradually; the sand was about his waist now, thick and restraining.

Silver moved about as fast as she could, trying to avoid suspicious looking patches of sand, though it was hard to tell what was safe and what was not. There were only bushes and trees though, nothing that looked useful or helpful. She looked back to Basil in despair, suddenly aware that she did not want to be left alone despite her earlier thoughts. Yes he was annoying but he was better than no one!

The sand was higher now, up to his chest, tightening it, slowing his breathing, he was going to die here! "I can't breathe!" he yelled out fearfully.

Silver's eyes widened in confusion when she saw a small, white parachute come floating down with a steel box attached to it. When it landed she eyed it suspiciously for a few seconds before daring to step forward and open it as Basil gave way to his fright and started screaming.

"I'm trapped! I'm trapped! I can't breathe!"

The blue eyed girl opened the box and was shocked to find a thick, coiled rope inside. 'Is this for real?' she wondered dubiously. 'Is someone helping us?' She recalled Antonius trying to explain the idea of sponsors and considered that this must be a gift from one. Wasting no more time, she pulled the rope out and hurried back to Basil. "I've a rope!" she informed him. "Catch!" She threw it once but it went wildly to the left. She reeled it back and threw again.

His arms were aching and tingling, desperate to be lowered but he couldn't, then there would be no hope. He filled with relief when Silver mentioned a rope, too frantic to wonder how she had found a rope of all things. When she threw it and missed he cursed, when she missed again, he swore louder. The sand was at his chin now, he could taste tiny granules. His head sank under, his vision was blinded, his face burned and the air was gone! Trapped, suffocating, dying! His hands grasped something rough above him, the rope! He gripped it tightly as Silver began to pull, and just managed to resist the urge to wiggle in an attempt to help her, well aware that it might only make him sink faster.

Silver gritted her teeth and pulled as hard as she could, the sand was too strong though and Basil too heavy. 'I can't let him die like this!' she thought determinedly as her palms were reddened with the strain. She pulled and pulled, groaning in pain as she did, was she getting anywhere?

"Need a hand?"

Before Silver could react to the newcomer, Ranger Penton, stepped in front of her, grabbed the rope with both hands and tugged. Knowing that Basil was running out of time, Silver chose to accept Ranger's unexpected help without question and pulled with him, wincing as her palms started to bleed.

At last Basil's head broke through, spluttering, gasping and crying. Silver was stunned to hear the cocky boy sobbing as they pulled him up. 'How out of character,' she thought in surprise as she continued to yank at the rope.

Basil released the rope only when he was fully out of the sand, curled up in a ball and began to cough up sand. Ranger dropped the rope and rubbed his palms together. "That could have been easier," he commented dryly as he eyed the younger male with scorn. 'Has he forgotten there are cameras?' he wondered.

President Ivon was seething when the tall male from District 10 arrived and instead of attacking the female, helped her. When the rebel from 4 was rescued in tears though, he privately thought the male's arrival was actually a good thing. At first he had been eager to see the volunteer removed at last, but this was better, yes let Panem see him humiliated first, then dead. 'At least there's a chance one of the other tributes might kill him,' he thought hopefully. Whilst he had found the mess with Simon, Swift and Elysia unpredictable and entertaining it was not good enough, an accidental death and a mercy kill were not what they public needed to see, intentional slaughter, that was the cold reality he wanted to be hammered home. Kids swayed into killing each other, the brutal wrath of the Capitol, and then a winner, the cold mercy of the Capitol, which was more than they deserved. Let them be thankful it was only twenty-four children and not more.

Quinn and Gaius looked to the president anxiously; it had been a surprise having him come to the games room, when he could have watched things from the comfort of his own suite. He said he wanted to see how things worked, but they knew he really wanted to see that they were doing a good job. Titus was not anxious about the president's presence, let him keep everyone on his toes and see for himself that things were being run properly.

"Antonius has received many sponsors for Mr. Vega," Titus admitted, "I felt it necessary to hold the bulk of them back but it would not do to isolate and disappoint our audience. We want to encourage sponsors, not make them feel duped. So Mr. Vega has been spared for his fans, although I do not imagine he will have many now."

"On the contrary, I think he'll have more," Quinn piped up boldly, earning a look of displeasure from the younger man, "it shows his softer, vulnerable side, some people might sympathise, even empathise with that."

"No," Ivon snarled, worried that she might be right, "they will view him as pathetic, which is what he is and what your sister will report him as."

"I think it should be up to the public," Titus dared to argue, "let them be split over him, let them argue and debate about it, it can only increase the popularity of the Games as a source of entertainment."

Ivon looked to Titus with a glimmer of pride in his eyes. "Perfect," he praised. "We will play neutral and let the public decide."

Titus looked back to the screen calmly, watching as Silver Rivers turned on Ranger Peyton with an obvious suspicion. She had a lot of potential, her gaze was so cold and brutal, without the madness of Star and Mallory, Titus secretly hoped that she would go far in the Games, she and perhaps the artist, the brazen girl from District 8 held a lot of ambition; it had been obvious during her training.

"Why did you help?" Silver asked bluntly as she studied Ranger as best she could. He was wearing a worn, tattered backpack, navy blue in colour with steel buckles, it was half the size of his back and whilst it did not look heavy, she could not be sure. He wore the standard uniform still, his black trousers coated in muck, and it was impossible to tell if he had any weapons, though his coat was open, he could easily have one hidden at his back or sides.

Ranger gave her a small smile. "I saw a girl in distress and couldn't resist," he answering teasingly.

Silver frowned at him. "Cut the crap," she snapped, "you said you were a lone wolf."

"Paid attention to my interview then? Well it's true, I am, and now that you kids are safe to keep playing, I will be on my way."

"Aren't you playing?" Basil queried curiously as he sat up and pushed his ragged, sand speckled hair back from his face. "It would have been so easy to just walk on and let me die, your hands would still be clean of blood," he pointed out.

"Maybe my conscience wouldn't, or maybe I just like a challenge," Ranger replied cryptically, "or I want to screw with the system, or I didn't think you deserved such a quick escape. Maybe I just felt like helping for no reason, it was just instinct."

"Men and their riddles," Silver grumbled as she glanced at Basil pointedly and then glowered back at the tall Ranger. "So you're playing or you're not playing, you are a loner but you felt like helping Basil, and that's it? Now you continue on and what? Just keep going by yourself until the end or until you meet someone who's going to insist on a fight like that guy from 1 or the girl, Mallory?"

Ranger continued to smile at Silver even as he shook his head dismissively. "Whatever happens, happens." He turned from them and started walking off.

"Wait!" Basil called out as he stood up at last and started walking after the dark haired boy from the livestock district.

Ranger glanced over his shoulder with a dismissive brown-grey gaze.

"Do you really want to be on your own?" Basil demanded. "Couldn't we team up or something?"

Ranger shook his head. "There is only one winner." He turned and started walking on again.

"Well it would be temporary but three is better than two!" Basil called. "We all know those kids from 1 and 2 are allies, that guy from 1 is a good fighter and the one from 2, he's tough looking, I mean, if we were to run into them..." He trailed off lamely as Ranger ignored him and continued walking.

"I thought you didn't want to play," Silver was quick to chide Basil as she watched Ranger. Tall, handsome in a rough way, pleasant enough, perhaps a little on the blunt side and quiet, she wondered if they had met under other circumstances would she have liked him or simply been annoyed by him. He was attractive to her, but then she had always liked the tough looking boys, ones she had hoped could give her a challenge, ones who claimed to be strong enough to protect her and yet never could.

"I don't," Basil muttered, "but I don't fancy getting cut down by a group of maniacs either."

"And you were so hopeful that no one was playing," Silver commented sardonically as she folded her arms, "and now you think at least four of them are."

"Three," Basil grumbled, "that guy from 2's sister probably isn't, anyway I don't know, I just wouldn't stick around to find out if I saw them. Let's start walking." He made a point of heading in the same direction as Ranger though he was slower, keeping his eyes out for any sandpits.

Ranger, faster with his longer legs, was soon out of sight, lost amongst the trees and bushes.

The pair walked for as long as they could, perking up when they escaped the forest of white trees and deceptive sand. When they stumbled into a clearing of smooth ground and several small caves, Silver was immediately ill at ease and eager to keep going.

"Let's rest here," Basil suggested, "we can sit in one of those caves," he gestured to one on the right with his hand and added, "that looks big enough."

Silver looked to it hesitantly and shook her head. "Anything could be in them," she pointed out, "and out here, we're sitting ducks. Besides, there's no water, I think finding that would be a priority."

Basil sighed and nodded. "I know, I'm thirsty too but I'm tired as well and my legs hurt, we've been walking a while and who knows where that guy went."

"Ranger," Silver remarked quickly, "his name is Ranger."

Basil turned to her curiously and a small smirk appeared. "Oh darling you have been paying attention, you know his name, you remember his interview and if I recall, he's the guy who stopped you from smashing your pretty skull."

Silver scowled at the younger boy before surveying the area once more. When a low growl came from their left she knew her fears about the caves was about to prove true.

It stepped out from one of the larger caves, nothing natural; the District 4 pair knew immediately that it was a muttation. Such beasts had been created during the Dark Days, jabberjays that were meant to be spies but were instead used to confuse by the rebels, mockingjays that had come as a result of the jabberjays mating with mockingbirds, tracker jackers that stung with venom and caused hallucinations and even death, and dog mutts that hunted and tore apart many rebels. This was canine looking, twice the height of Basil, it was on four legs, its fur was thick, shaggy and copper-brown, its eyes as big as teacups , sharply focused and gleaming with intelligence, its body sleek and ready to pounce. Its muzzle was Silver's immediate concern, it was long, big and open showing several rows of serrated teeth like the inside of a shark's mouth, something she was quite familiar with coming from the fishing district.

Basil looked at its four paws, large with short claws; they could probably batter a victim to death in seconds and carry the beast at a speed neither he nor Silver could hope to compete with. Still, despite this knowledge the boy felt compelled to say, "run."

Silver held her ground and shook her head when Basil looked her way. "No," she hissed back, "that thing could easily beat us."

"Well what do you suggest?" Basil whispered back as loudly as he dared.

It was creeping close to them, slowly, its mustard eyes flickering from one to the other hungrily. It knew they were no threat but instinct made it take caution anyway.

Silver looked about desperately, they could run to a smaller cave but if it trapped them in there they might never escape. If it never left they might simply die of hunger or thirst, it would be folly waiting there in the hope that it would go hungry before them and leave. They had no weapons though and nowhere else to run to, past the smooth ground she could see a cluster of bushes, past them though was unknown, a cliff or another hill drop she suspected but there was no way to be sure.

The beast, assured that they were prey and not predator, pounced for them both. Basil let out a yell of alarm as they separated instantly and the fight or flight instinct kicked in. The pair ran in opposite directions and the beast immediately pursued Basil. The sixteen-year-old let out a gasp of pain and surprise as he was batted back with a powerful blow from the beast's right paw. He fell through the air, smacked onto the ground and rolled painfully across it and into Silver who let out a cry as she fell into a tangle with him.

The pair struggled in a panic, trying to separate themselves and stand again. The creature was above them before they could however, instantly casting them in its shadow. "Roll right!" Silver snapped. She turned her body and was relieved when Basil followed suit, putting them out of danger briefly as the beast's muzzle came down and smacked into the ground instead. It gave a squeal of pain as the pair finally stood once more.

"Go to the bushes!" Basil snapped. "I'll try and distract it!"

"Idiot!" Silver retorted as Basil started to run about in circles and wave his hands in the air.

The creature went after him, reaching him in seconds; it was too fast for Silver to gain any advantage. "Over here!" she yelled before it could snap up Basil. "OVER HERE!"

"Don't!" Basil cried out when the creature turned from him to see who was shouting.

The pair ran about yelling, there was no time for thinking, no chance of planning, but it was too quick and strong, they would never make it. Silver gave a scream of pain when four claws raked down her chest and sent her flying back, closer to the bushes and yet not near enough. She had a painful landing on the smooth ground and knew her skull was bruised and possibly bleeding like her torso.

"Silver!" Basil shouted in alarm. If only there was something to hurt it with, a rock, a stick, anything! He glanced about with the same desperation as his female tribute and gave a joyous cry when he saw a rock. It was bumpy and pointed in two sides, not big enough to stun but hopefully large enough to wound and at the very least distract. Basil ran towards it and took aim; he had had much practise thanks to spearing fish and was one of the very best at aiming out of the people in District 4. He gave a holler to make it look his way, raised the rock and took a few precious seconds to aim before throwing it as fast as he could.

The beast gave a loud yelp of pain as the rock smashed into its right eye, instantly blinding it. Basil and Silver both took the chance to run for the bushes. Their legs brushed against thorns and spiky leaves as the beast started to thunder after them. In desperation they hurried on despite the pain and snagging on their clothes. Pushing forward as their lungs heaved, their hearts pounded and their muscles throbbed and threatened to give way. They were heading down; it was the start of a slope. To a cliff edge! Silver slowed but did not halt, she saw the gleam of water, a large pool, not big enough to be a lake but dark blue in colour meaning it was deep. She jumped off, throwing herself as far outwards as she could and putting herself in a dive position to lessen the impact. Basil followed just as eagerly as the canine muttation snapped at his heels and managed to tear the back of his trousers off on his right leg.


	7. Chapter 7- Death Is Only A Game

Skylar West winced as she tried to hobble fast enough to match Ferdinand's nervous stride. It had been two hours since the pair had escaped from the water, wet, cold and wounded the pair had waited for the first slivers of light before heading off. They headed in no particular direction, aware that their screams had probably drawn unwanted attention to them; anywhere away was safer than the water. Skylar bit back a loud groan of pain as her bloody ankle sent a burning throb up her body, she had tried to staunch the blood feebly with some leaves but they had done little to cease it. The flow was slower but had yet to stop, her shoe was soaked with drying blood that had turned her sock sticky and she was beginning to feel faint.

Scrawny, blonde, freckled and a low scorer during the training sessions, Skylar West had the odds against her in the Game. So far she had received no gifts from sponsors and unknown to her there were already several bets as to when she would die, twenty percent predicting she would be next. She had not stood out much during the opening ceremony, in an ill fitted coal mining suit, and her interview had been last and largely ignored. None of this had mattered much to her until now, at last as she was limping in a panic she realised how good aid might be and how very real the threat of death was.

Ferdinand was feeling even less confident about their situation, and greatly regretting attempting to help the older girl. It was foolish trying to help others in a game where there could only be one winner but then Ferdinand hadn't exactly put much thought into it; he had heard a scream and his conscience had outweighed sense. Now here he was, stuck with a girl who looked less capable than him of fighting, and worse she was injured and slowing them down. He knew he should abandon her but his chivalrous side would not permit it and so he slowed to match her pace, though he sighed in frustration as he did.

"What are we going to do?" he wondered aloud as he looked about worriedly. There were thick trunked leaves with large, drooping leaves all around them; it was all too easy for someone to hide amongst. The air was getting warmer and he was starting to sweat as they continued along across short, yellowing grass and dry earth. Were they entering a jungle?

"I don't know," Skylar hissed back as she winced. She had gone pale and her dizziness was getting worse. "I'm going to have to rest soon though," she confessed, "and try and fix this wound."

Ferdinand glanced briefly at the bloody foot, her trouser leg was in tatters at the bottom and he could guess from the thick blood congealing about her limb that the wound was deep. "What the hell attacked us?" he pondered.

"Probably a mutt," Skylar growled out, "who cares? I just hope it wasn't poisonous."

Ferdinand shuddered, he had not been bitten, just scraped with some rough skin and head butted, but his clothing remained intact and he was only bruised. He made to answer but the sound of feet of distracted him. The gangly fifteen-year-old turned round quickly with wide eyes, which filled with shock when he spied the willowy Crystal.

The auburn haired seventeen-year-old appeared alone, and in relatively good condition, only her shoes were dirty and her hair was just slightly mussed. She gave the pair a small smile, which Skylar immediately distrusted. The girl was carrying a thin, black object in her right hand, held by her waist casually. Skylar looked to it suspiciously as she swallowed down a gasp of pain.

"I'm so glad I've found someone," Crystal exclaimed. "This place is hell, that boy from two tried to kill me!" She choked out a sob, and reached up her free hand to her small chest. "I just want to go home," she babbled, "it's cold here and I'm so hungry."

'Hungry?' Skylar thought angrily. 'Well I suppose she would be, it's not normal for those pampered pricks in 1 to go without food for long.'

Ferdinand filled with annoyance and despair, another chick with problems. 'I should ignore her,' he thought vehemently to himself, 'the more people I'm with the more people to kill me.' "I thought you were allied with blondie," Ferdinand commented bluntly. "He's not dead, so what happened?" Only two people were dead, he had seen the holograms like everyone else, two kids, it was just sad.

"Rudy?" Crystal made it a question as her emerald eyes narrowed a trace. "I tried to ally with him," she admitted, "but he's too ruthless and not interested in allies."

"Wise," Skylar remarked calmly, "there can only be one winner after all."

Crystal winced and her bow shaped lips trembled. "I know," she said softly, "but I don't want to be alone just waiting." She looked to the pair hopefully. "Can I join you two? You're together, you must be safe."

Ferdinand and Skylar exchanged a look before Skylar resumed her cautious stare on the item in Crystal's hand. "What's that you're holding?" she demanded.

Crystal took a step towards her and Skylar instinctively hobbled back. Crystal paused and held the item out. "It's just a fan," she said, "utterly useless," she added bitterly, "probably someone's idea of a joke."

"Where did you get it?" Skylar demanded, still very suspicious of the girl. 'She trained with that blonde guy,' she thought, 'and she helped that guy from 2's sister, why on earth would he try to kill her?'

"From the cornucopia," Crystal answered, "there were many items there, backpacks, food, water, weapons, but there was no time to decide, everyone was going crazy and the place was booby trapped. I grabbed this and ran, that was where that guy from 2 tried to kill me, he had a mace, I only just dodged it."

"That's nuts," Ferdinand muttered.

Crystal nodded as she took a couple of small, subtle steps forward.

"Why are you still carrying that fan if it's so useless?" Skylar demanded.

Crystal grinned, and sprinted across the gap before Skylar could move. She swung her right hand outwards, flipping open the fan as she did. Skylar saw the fan coming at her and dumbly failed to react, when saw the gleam of metal on the end of it, it was too late. Crystal swung it quickly at the younger blonde's throat, the bladed edge of the fan swept across the skin neatly, opening it in one clean blow.

Ferdinand let out a yell of horror and staggered back as blood instantly poured out of Skylar's throat and she fell ungracefully to her knees.

"Things can be so deceptive," Crystal commented coyly as she folded her arms, unperturbed by her actions, and flicked the fan lightly, shaking some of the blood off it. "It was Sukie who got this, almost sliced her hand open before Thorn noticed what it was, he's observant unlike you."

Skylar's eyes rolled up inside her skull as she gargled a couple of times before she slumped to the ground and twitched just once before going still. Horrified, Ferdinand immediately broke into a run, thankful that he had much longer legs than Crystal.

Crystal watched him run, her smile widening as she spied Rudy and Thorn start to give pursuit. The males were quieter and a lot more subtle than Ferdinand who ran awkwardly and loudly through the trees, gasping aloud in horror. The sixteen-year-old mechanic was not even aware that the two males were following him. Satisfied with her kill, Crystal shook the fan violently to rid it of the rest of the blood, splattering some of it onto her red top. She folded it back up and headed back to Sukie, who remained crouched behind a bush, purposely staring at the ground.

On her brother's orders, the twelve-year-old had avoided watching Crystal take out the District 12 girl. If he could not get her out of this game, Thorn could at least attempt to shield her from it. She would not witness any kills nor commit them, he would be the murderer, slaughtering until only Sukie was left, she would be the winner, he had sworn to it.

Ferdinand paused briefly for breath when he escaped from the trees, clutching his palms to his knees as he doubled over and gasped. Unnoticed, Jasmine Dark spied this new arrival from her perch high up on the branches of a knobbly oak tree. She looked down at him with wary brown eyes and turned around to see the way he had come. She saw nothing at first and then briefly glimpsed a crop of dark hair before it vanished. The tall boy was being followed then by a very clever hunter. The District 7 girl stayed silent, let him be hunted, she would not risk her own skin by interfering. So far she had managed to play it safe by staying up in the trees, of course it could not last forever, there were no fruits or nuts growing and she knew that soon she would have to venture out for food and water. Not yet though, a few hours after all this had passed.

Ferdinand gave a holler of pain when Rudy's hatchet sank into the back of his right knee. He sank down onto it, forcing the blonde to release the handle. Rudy wasted no time in standing up and slamming his left foot hard into Ferdinand's back, causing the scruffy mechanic to fall forward with another yell. Before Ferdinand could attempt to defend himself he let out a howl of agony as Rudy grasped the wooden handle of the hatchet with both hands and yanked hard, ripping up skin as the blade came free. Ferdinand rolled away as tears leaked out of his eyes, Rudy could have easily imbedded the blade into his skull then but he was not done yet with his newfound victim.

He kicked the taller man again, this time in the ribs, causing another squeal of pain to escape him. "You're not much fun," the blonde taunted, "a pity, you're my first, I was expecting better."

Ferdinand screamed again as Rudy stamped his foot down hard on his stomach. He raised his left leg and tried to kick out but he could not see properly as red filled his vision and his mind buzzed with pain.

Jasmine covered her mouth as she watched from above in horror and disgust. This was torture, it was sick! 'Are people watching this?' she wondered. 'How can they? How can he do that? I know we have to kill, it's what they demand, but this...' She swallowed a lump of revulsion but could not turn away; even if she would not help the man, who was he anyway, she would witness this. It was not out of respect, no something much more practical, rather to gauge her future opponents, and learn what she could about her enemies.

Rudy pulled back effortlessly to avoid Ferdinand's foot and swung the hatchet again before the brown haired boy could pull his limb back. The blade sank through the rubbery boot and into flesh. Ferdinand squealed as tears poured from his eyes, and he jerked his foot about awkwardly in pain, trying in vain to shake the hatchet off. Rudy smirked and reached out to grab the handle again, jerking it hard to the right, making sure to push the blade further into the man's toes. This was strangely exhilarating, it gave the fifteen-year-old an odd sense of power, a kind of control he had never known before, it was the attempt to master influence over life and death, a dangerous and yet seductive thing. The hatchet came free; now both of Ferdinand's legs were effectively useless, far too wounded for him to stand.

It was a mercy that the next blow came from out of Ferdinand's vision. For a moment there was only a shadow, then an explosion of pain and at last the release from his torment and the sweet escape into death. Thorn ended Ferdinand's suffering by swinging his morning star hard into the engineer loving boy's skull, crushing it with a sickening sound of bones snapping and blood gushing out.

Rudy looked to Thorn with instant annoyance but said nothing as he caught the older man's cold stare. Thorn looked to Ferdinand impassively as he pulled his weapon free, another dead, another step closer to securing Sukie's victory, and ensuring that she, unlike everyone else in here, could grow up.

Jasmine pressed both hands close to her lips as a whimper threatened to escape. Tears of alarm soaked her cheeks as tried hard to get her breathing under control, and struggled not to move too much. Suddenly she did not feel so safe high up in the trees; death was just too close for comfort.

The boys turned from the corpse and walked back the way they had come to where Crystal and Sukie would be waiting. Neither spared a look back to the boy they had murdered, nor did they attempt to speak of it, moving as quickly as they could, yet carefully and quietly, well aware that there might be others out there who shared their bloodlust.

Quinn clapped her hands and squealed with delight as she watched Rudy brutally attack Ferdinand. 'Now this is entertainment!' she thought joyfully. 'Rose will be delighted, now she will finally have something good to report on!'

Titus paled slightly as he watched the boy grin disturbingly as his victim screamed and cried, how could one so young find enjoyment in such a heinous act? 'He must be mad,' he thought as he struggled hard to hide his disgust.

Gaius shared his superior's disgust though he knew better than to voice it. Instead he looked away and busied himself with organising the anthem and the hologram of the recently deceased Skylar West. It was no surprise that one from such a poor district had gone quickly; they had no skill and were far too starved to have any strength either. Still, the boy was still alive and the girl from 11 appeared formidable enough, maybe the Gamemaker would be surprised. He tensed as he heard the sound of Thorn's morning star crunching down on Ferdinand's skull.

Quinn let out a groan of dismay. "It was just getting good!" she cried out.

Titus looked to the woman in outrage before forcing himself to curb his stare, this was what they were meant to be after, after all, bloody entertainment. "Two dead so quickly," he grumbled, "I wonder how long the Games will last at this rate."

Quinn turned his way and smiled. "Well you wouldn't want all the kills to be dragged out, making things boring," she reasoned.

"Yes but if things go by too quickly they won't make enough of an impact," Titus countered. "People need to think about this, it needs to be a deep wound, not a swift cut to heal just as quickly as it was dealt out."

"Quite right," Ivon praised as the main doors slid open and he stepped into the room. He looked to Titus proudly and quipped, "tell me, what is the latest news on things?"

"Two just dead," Quinn could not help but announcing with a wide smile.

Ivon turned his attention to the middle aged woman and questioned, "how?"

"The boy and girl from 1, and the boy from 2," Titus answered, drawing the President's attention back to him and an irate stare from Quinn. "The girl, Crystal Mirrors, killed the female from District 12, Skylar West and the boys, Rudy Carson and Thorn Greendale killed the male, Ferdinand Bell, from District 6," he explained.

President Ivon allowed a small smile to show. "At last, they're finally doing what they're supposed to," he said calmly. The tattoos about his eyes had changed, now they were green triangles circling his pale jade stare, and his hair had beaded chains of gold weaved through it. His suit was one of the more expensive, designer ones, matching the latest style, it was as flamboyant as most Capitol clothes and advertised both his wealth and his power. He noted Titus' ordinary outfit with dismay and his eyes flickered up to the man's hair, the only changing thing about him. "Silver streaks?" he quipped with a cool stare, just holding back a scowl.

The young man nodded calmly. "Well I've had bronze tips and gold highlights, silver seemed like a logical choice. It probably won't last long, my hairstyles never do."

"No," Ivon muttered, "I look forward to seeing the next style." He turned from the Head Gamemaker to face the giant screen, which now showed Jasmine Dark trying not to tremble as she sat on a tree branch with her knees raised against herself.

Quinn smirked slightly, pleased to see Titus admonished by the President, or at least as close to being admonished as he was likely to be. 'The only downside of the Games going well,' she thought bitterly, 'is that it means things are going well for him too. He shouldn't be Head, he's too young, and it's nothing to do with him that we're having success in the arena. I bet the rumours are true about why he got this job.'

Crystal took note of the bloodstains on Rudy and the look of satisfaction in his blue eyes and she knew that the gangly boy was dead. 'Good,' she thought smugly, 'he was an idiot anyway.'

"Now where are we going?" the pretty redhead asked brightly.

Sukie stared at the drying carmine stains on her brother's weapon in fear and she found herself shaking. 'What did he do?' she wondered. 'Did he really kill that boy or was it him?' She looked at Rudy and found herself unable to stare up at his face, too afraid of what she would find there. The bloodstains were too much, the young girl knew the tall boy was dead, she knew Rudy and Thorn had caught him. 'Why?' she thought. 'He was running, why couldn't they just let him run?' She had seen that much, Ferdinand's cry of dread had compelled her to look when she knew she shouldn't. She had seen him turn from Crystal and run. Thankfully, she had not seen Skylar's corpse, and Crystal had taken care to guide the younger girl away from it, even she did not think one so young should see something so horrid. It was odd but despite herself Crystal actually liked Sukie though she wanted to view her as a burden, the girl was sweet and harmless, and had endeared herself to the older girl.

It killed Thorn inside to see his sister's questioning look of surprise and then horror, it stung much more than killing Ferdinand had. He had not known the boy and if it had not been him to kill him, someone else would have, besides it had been a mercy kill really, not that it mattered. Sukie's accusing look though, it was hard to bear; he did not want his sister to view him as a monster even if he had to become one here. He was doing it for her, did she not realise that? 'She's too young to get it,' he thought with dismay. 'Too young to realise it's evil for the greater good. When she gets out though, and grows up, maybe she will realise then that I did it for her.'

"The day is young," Rudy commented calmly, "let's just see what we can find."

"We need a base," Thorn remarked, "we've run out of water and food, we need to find somewhere with supplies." It was true, the bread rolls and bottles of water they had found in Thorn's backpack and the apples Sukie had seized from the cornucopia had been squandered. Even during the Dark Days none of the four had learned much about rationing, their districts simply had too much in the way of food and though the Capitol had put a dent in supplies the Dark Days had ended before it could really impact any of them.

Rudy shrugged. "We'll find something," he said confidently as he smiled at Thorn, "consider what we've just done, we're not the two they will want to die of starvation or thirst."

Thorn kept his face carefully blank, loathing Rudy's words and yet agreeing with them. They had entertained hadn't they? Played the Game, given in and obeyed the Capitol, ruthlessly cut down a stranger and why? He had been running, he had been defenceless, so why had they done it? 'For victory?' Thorn thought numbly. 'Victory for Sukie, will she really thank me for it when I soak my hands in blood to secure her win? Is it worth killing for?'

"Three," Crystal corrected coolly, "I think you'll find I handled that girl on my own."

Thorn reached out for Sukie's hand with his free one but she shrank back from it, her eyes still on the bloodied morning star.

Crystal looked to her gently and murmured, "we're only doing what we have to Sukie."

Sukie looked to the older girl and nodded hesitantly. "I...okay." She turned back to her brother and took his hand. He grasped her tightly, thinking of how little time they now had left to be together. How could anyone be so cruel as to force siblings apart in such a bloody fashion?

Rudy let out a grunt of impatience and started walking. In their small group there was no leader, he and Thorn for the moment were equals but Rudy remained ever wary of his ally, the man was taller and quicker but Rudy was certain he was the deadlier of the pair. 'When it comes down to it,' he thought darkly, 'it will be me.'

They walked at a leisurely place and only Sukie reacted to the sound of the cannon booming twice. She paused to look up into the sky, her blue eyes misted up at the sight of Skylar's face, followed by Ferdinand's. She couldn't remember the boy's name, the boy who her brother had helped to kill. Thorn pulled Sukie on, not once looking up, or even flinching at the sound of the cannon and then the Capitol's anthem.

The terrain shifted gradually, the trees thinning out and giving way to a more rocky landscape, with sparse patches of long, dying grass, and a dry, crumbling earth. Rudy glanced about in annoyance, some of the boulders could provide a decent shelter so long as it didn't rain but apart from that there was nothing useful here.

"I'll scout ahead," Crystal offered cheerfully, "see if there's something better nearby."

Rudy nodded, as did Thorn though he was reluctant to let her go. There could be any amount of danger out there and he would rather he or Rudy faced it than Crystal, but he did not want to question her abilities or risk leaving Sukie with Rudy and Crystal. Crystal was good to the girl, he did not mind her but Rudy he did not trust, if he turned on the girls, Thorn wasn't sure that Crystal could win that fight. Still, Rudy was strong, swift and observant, not an ally to turn into an enemy too soon.

The golden auburn haired girl hurried on, though in truth she was tiring and the sweat beginning to trickle down her tanned skin was making her uncomfortable. Exercise was one thing but this, this was not a relaxed way to burn carbs, this was work, tough, gritty, sweaty work, not something Crystal Mirrors was familiar with. Still, if she did the scouting work now, then when it grew dark one of the boys would have to play hunter, spy and forager. She twisted the fan about casually in her right hand, gripping it tightly twice when she stumbled over stones and let out several curses. Her clothes were beginning to get dusty and worse, her nostrils were getting clogged with dirt, this was disgusting.

'If it's the only price I have to pay it's not the worst,' she told herself as she forced herself to keep going. Up ahead and just a couple of minutes to the west she could spy a large cluster of rocks and boulders, tall enough to make a decent vantage point. If she was careful she could do some sufficient observing from there without getting spotted herself. She could hear strange noises in the air, distant for now but disturbing enough for her to pause every couple of steps and glance about her. There were low bird cries, hissing so soft it was almost inaudible and every three seconds a succession of clicking noises like something's claws or feet walking across the stones. She could see nothing though and concluded that it was either a trick or something too far away to be of concern.

She quickened her pace though her thighs were beginning to throb and already the thought of the walk back was gnawing at her mind. 'I'll sit for a bit when I reach those boulders,' she decided, 'then head back. There's hardly a rush, not like the guys are going to be in any kind of trouble. Still,' she rubbed briefly at her dry lips with her free hand, 'it would be nice to find some water.'

Crystal reached the shadow of the boulders at last and realised that they seemed to form around the opening of a small hole. She leaned over one of the smaller rocks and peered down cautiously and then across. If she was careful and steady she could it make over to the taller rocks and up on top of them without too much trouble. She sighed, wiped the sweat from her brow, tucked her fan into her combats, with the bladed end pointing upwards naturally, and began to climb. Her sweaty palms slipped once, causing her to drop forward with a grunt of annoyance. 'All this outdoor stuff is horrible,' she thought with a scowl. 'Still, once I'm up there I'll have a good view of what's out there and hopefully spot some water.' She forced herself onwards, wincing when her right foot slipped as she manoeuvred over the hole, the sole of her boot scrapping against one of the rocks and sending an echo of noise down the small patch of darkness.

She grasped the edges of the tallest boulder and dragged herself up. She glimpsed the wide expanse of land for mere seconds, taking in a potential shimmer of water onwards to the east just as the shrieks began. She let out a scream of terror as she was suddenly battered from all sides. They came at her, large blurs of greys, blacks and browns, nightmarish winged beasts that shrieked and squealed loudly in her ears. They were tearing at her, lashing out with claws and biting! She raised her hands to her face as she leaned back in an attempt to escape them. She fell, rolled to the left and slid down with a loud crack in between two rocks. She was sandwiched uncomfortably between them, both knees skinned in the process and her combats torn. The rocks sheltered her stomach and torso from the worst of the creatures now but they were still yanking at her hair and nipping at her legs and feet viciously.

Crystal continued to scream, kicking out wildly and hugging her arms about her face despite the sharp stings of pain that were beginning to occur there. They were starting to tear through her coat; her body was damp now not just with sweat but with fresh blood too, which seemed to be sending the beasts into a worse frenzy. She tried to turn from them, and tried to free herself from the rocks but she was stuck tight. They were growing more violent, now they were tearing at her skin! In a moment of desperation she dropped one arm from her face and struggled to reach for her fan, which had slid to her right hip and was almost burrowed beneath her. After what felt like an hour of struggling as bits of hair and skin were torn away, she finally grasped the handle. She opened the fan and swung out with the blade wildly, cutting at flesh, feathers and fur. Two creatures squealed in pain and flew away; another gave a screech as she cut into its nose.

Crystal swung harder and faster, determined to get the upper hand. 'I'm not going out like this!' she thought desperately. 'I won't be lunch for whatever these things are!' She knew she had to risk dropping her other arm to push herself up and out of the rocks. Shutting her eyes tightly she moved as swiftly as she could, sinking her left hand against a rock and pushing hard. She made upright, all the while swinging her deadly fan at the creatures. She glimpsed the creatures briefly, they were an odd combination of crows and bats, with two long, taloned, yellow legs, squished looking snouts, beady eyes, fangs, plumed tails and wings made of skin, fur and feathers. Twice the size of a crow with a surprising strength, they screeched as they flapped around her, growing wilder as the scent of blood filled them.

Crystal gave a scream of alarm when one smacked into the back of skull, causing it to swing forward. Wings entangled in her hair and talons clawed at her head. She reached back with her left hand, grasped the beast's body and pulled hard, tearing it away from herself before she flung it outwards. Another came at her right, she swung with the fan, two to the left, one above, three in front! It was too much! She was panting and sweating with the effort, her arm was aching and she never seemed to move quickly enough. They drew more and more snatches of blood from her, nipping hard at her skin, and raking through her clothes. Another to the left! The bloodstained blade smacked against a body, and then the edge sliced hard down a face and drove upwards through a wing, cutting through the skin like butter. Another to the left, two coming at her! One smacked into her chest, and sank its fangs into her throat. Crystal screamed in pain and swung the fan. The beast moved in the blink of an eye, darting to the right. Crystal flinched and her body seized up in shock as the blade of the fan burrowed itself into her chest.

A tight breath tried to struggle up her throat but seemed to catch. Her vision flickered to red and then black briefly as her body seemed to keel backwards. She fell through the air rapidly before crashing painfully into the ground with a grunt of pain as her back was instantly bruised and her vision swam. Her hand was still tightly wrapped around the handle of the fan, she wanted to pull but tried to resist. For the moment her whole body seemed numb and a terrible ringing filled her ears as her eyes began to water. She was losing focus fast and completely unaware of the flying muttations that were circling above her.

"Crystal!" It was Thorn who yelled out her name. "Crystal!" Sukie had heard the scream, distant and almost inaudible, Thorn and Rudy had not detected it until the girl had urged them to listen. It was only when Crystal had let out a succession of shrieks that they had finally heard and started to follow after them. They had moved cautiously though, unwillingly to bound foolishly into danger even for an ally. So they had wasted precious minutes, chasing the screams with several stops, moving crouched in the shadows of rocks, and waiting there until they were certain no other tributes or muttations were lying in wait.

Rudy halted upon seeing the swirling mass of death flying about their fallen companion. Thorn however released Sukie's hand and charged on with a yell, waving his morning star threateningly. When he reached the mutts, he swung the morning star into them, immediately battering three of them. A loud whistle suddenly sounded through the air, causing Thorn to release his weapon and clutch his ears with a cry of pain. Sukie and Rudy too grasped their ears in pain and winced as they waited for the terrible sound to stop. The mutts however reacted to it and flew back rapidly down the hole they had come from. When the noise stopped the mutts were gone.


	8. Chapter 8- Into the Woods

"Four tributes gone and one at the precipice of death," Rose Rample announced solemnly to the camera, "so far our first Hunger Games has proved to be an exciting, unpredictable and bloody one." She grinned showing off the ruby glinting on one of her top teeth and turned to the screen behind her where the names of the tributes were displayed, the deceased's names with a red line through them. "Don't forget you can help the survivors folks," she reminded, "donate a gift, a weapon, medicine, food, whatever you want!" She turned back to the camera and flashed another wide smile. "Support your favourite and see their odds rise."

It really was a game now, the betting upon survivors was a popular form of gambling in the Capitol, people placed money on who would win, who would die next, who would kill next, or who would wound next, even who would receive a gift, or might get mauled by a Mutt. Unsurprisingly, Crystal Mirrors was the favourite to die next given her self-inflicted injury, whilst Rudy was the favourite to win, though some considered Thorn a dark horse who might betray his ally and then offer up the ultimate sacrifice thus making Sukie the winner, she was a surprising fourth in the stakes to win, behind Rudy, Star Pinark and Mallory Banks.

"Shall we have a recap of Rudy and Thorn's bloody chase?" Rose quipped excitedly. "In slow motion, watch how these two move in sync, a dangerous and fatal alliance for Ferdinand Bell." She lowered her bronze microphone and looked once more to the screen as the camera zoomed in on the image of Thorn and Rudy sneaking out from the trees and sprinting after the District 6 boy.

In his private quarters President Ivon watched Rose's live broadcast on his large wall screen. He had been delighted to see the males hunt and bring down Ferdinand like lions catching and slaughtering a zebra; it was exhilarating to watch and at last showed what he wanted the Games to have, cold-blooded, methodical murder. Gavin had been an accidental death, and Swift effectively an unintentional murder turned into a mercy kill, it was not good enough but now here he had two unquestionably cruel and unprovoked killings. He turned away as Ferdinand died on screen for the second time and the camera returned its attention to Rose who babbled about the importance of sponsors. "What gifts are there for the ones from 1 and 2?" he queried Titus who stood to his left against the wall, staring about the large, luxurious looking room with a dull interest.

"Bread from their districts," Titus answered calmly as he reverted his attention to the president, "water, soup, some warmer clothes, medicine for Crystal, a couple of sleeping bags and a machete, the most expensive gift so far."

Ivon nodded approvingly and reached for his glass of wine, he took a deep sip before remarking, "send the bread and the medicine, see them rewarded for giving us some entertainment. Let them understand what gets them help in this game."

Titus nodded stiffly before flickering a glance back to the screen, there were the faces of the twenty-four tributes, four of them now crossed out, two boys and two girls dead. 'Now we have ten boys and ten girls,' he thought with mild interest as his brown eyes looked at the faces that glowed back at him. Elysia looked startled in hers, Mallory fierce eyed, Thorn grim, Sukie scared, Basil was grinning but bore uncertainty in his stare, Rudy had the first soft glimmer of madness in his whilst Cadence looked confident and Crystal unimpressed. 'They're all so different and yet all but one are fated to the same outcome, the undiscriminating touch of Death,' he thought to himself coldly.

Ivon scrutinised Titus with a disapproving green gaze, he noted that the man still had silver streaks in his dark hair. "Who do you hope will win?" the President queried curiously.

Titus was surprised at the question and his eyes widened slightly as he continued to study the faces on the screen. 'Not think but hope, it's a trick question,' he cautioned himself as he debated over his answer. "I have hopes for Simon Jackson, he has potential."

"Hmm, and which one is he?" Ivon asked moodily, he had forgotten most of their names, there was no need to remember when there was a video clip or photograph to go with the name.

"The male from District 5," Titus answered politely as he pointed up to Simon's sullen image.

"Pah," Ivon let out a noise of disgust and shook his head, "he killed that girl out of mercy with tears in his eyes, he's weak."

"He has potential," Titus argued calmly.

Ivon shook his head again and took another sip of his wine before waving his hand up towards Rudy and Thorn. "Those two, the males from 1 and 2, one of them should win," he said confidently.

"They have equal determination too," Titus answered agreeably. 'Though Thorn does not want to win,' he thought to himself, 'if he gets to the end with Sukie he will kill himself, it's in his eyes, the boy, no man, he's nineteen, has already resigned himself to death.'

Jasmine Dark had moved across the trees and dry dirt for half a day now, travelling constantly ever since she was certain it was safe to, ever wary of other tributes. She was exhausted now, from the energy it took to climb and descend the trees as well as moving swiftly on foot, feeling too vulnerable to linger on the ground for long. She was extremely thirsty now but despite her hopes for a water source near the trees she was yet to find any. In truth there were only two, the one with carnivorous Mutts that changed depth as day became night, and the larger pool Silver and Basil had been forced to throw themselves into. Jasmine, though she was not to know it, was far from both of these.

The fifteen-year-old pushed back some of her dark chestnut hair and licked her dry lips as she paused to judge a gap between the branch she was crouched on and the branches of another tree. The trees here were tall and thin with thick branches, sharp twigs and rough, prickly leaves that had scratched her skin in several places. She could not identify them despite having grown up in a district lush with various trees and plants, and it worried her as she knew they had to be mutations of a kind and feared what other attributes they might have.

Unnoticed, lying against a rough, grey barked tree, just out of sight beneath its low down, spiked leaves, Sparky Windles sat, glancing up as he heard a light rustle in front. He squinted his grey eyes and tried to see what had caused the sound. His eyes widened when he saw the petite Jasmine springing across the branches, a blur of black with a mane of brown hair flying out behind her. He lifted up his weapon, a very lucky prize from the cornucopia and his only one, and took aim carefully. He could not recall the girl's name or anything about her save that she was a late addition to the Games after her predecessor's premature murder and death. Sparky had his doubts about the murder the former District 7 girl had confessed to but he was not overly concerned about the matter. 'She's like a bloody squirrel,' he thought scornfully as he struggled to hold his weapon upright with both hands, unused to wielding such a thing. It was a crossbow, though it only had three bolts, one of which Sparky had fired for practice at a rock before retrieving it with much effort and several scratches on it. He had gotten the just of the weapon, it was simple logic and technique after all and he came from the technology district, he was well schooled in unravelling the mechanics of things, though theory and practice were two very different things.

'I should fire before she moves again,' he thought to himself as he watched her cautiously, 'but what if I miss? I lose a valuable bolt, she knows I'm here and either flees or attacks. Could she have a weapon? I don't remember seeing her at the cornucopia, no, she probably doesn't but then again, there's plenty about here to turn into a weapon.'

He was cold, there was a terrible chill here that only seemed to be worsening and he knew that soon his hands would shake and ruin his aim.

Jasmine was starting to feel the chill too, having mostly ignored it as the dry pain in her throat took priority. She glanced about herself warily deciding where to next move. 'Where is there water?' she wondered in frustration.

There was a snap and a low hiss through the air, the female gave a yelp as she felt a sting of pain in her right shoulder before she could even react to the sound. She looked at it in alarm and saw a thin shaft of metal with two red feathers on it sticking out of it. For a moment she only felt fire there, before she urged herself to move.

Sparky cursed to himself as she sprang with a surprising speed and was gone from his vision before he could finish her off. 'What a waste of a bolt,' he thought to himself in irritation, considering pursuit futile. She was too quick for him and had an advantage by being able to move through the trees with the ease that she did. Still, his cover was blown and he knew he should move lest she return with allies. So, with some reluctance, the blonde stood up as quietly as he could and started walking, carrying the crossbow with his right hand against his side. It was a heavy thing but far too precious for him to ever consider abandoning it despite its weight. Even with only two bolts left it still might make the difference between life and death for the sixteen-year-old.

He walked slouched over in frustration and irritation; he had not stretched his muscles out properly and kept them cramped for too long while he had been resting by the tree, already pins and needles were tingling through his arms. His one attempt to play the game and it had been sloppy at best, he wondered how many people would witness, rate and scorn it. He had guessed that just about everything was filmed but he doubted it was broadcast live; too much would be missed and possibly revealed, so someone, presumably the Gamemakers, had to edit footage. 'Can I hope my attempt to kill might get ignored in favour of someone else's kill?' he wondered bitterly. 'Perhaps whoever got rid of those other two earlier, has that footage been shown yet? Were they together? The cannons sounded close, two coincidental kills or joint? If they were together then maybe others are too, definitely the ones from 1 and 2, but who else? Maybe I'm the only one without allies.'

He wondered as he walked how long it would be before he found food and water, he was just as hungry and thirsty as Jasmine but had none of her foraging skills, though they were yet to serve her. He wondered too how long it would be before he came across another tribute, it was impossible to guess at how big the arena was and there were still twenty left including himself and only one winner permitted, it was foolish to think he might never find another tribute and simply win by default, it would never be allowed. 'So either the arena is of a reasonable size,' he thought to himself, 'or they have a way to herd us together.' He glanced about nervously, wary of being stalked, perhaps the male from District 7 was leaping about the trees with better stealth than his partner. He paused to listen but heard only the low call of foreign animals in the distance.

He walked for two hours until his legs started to give way and he reached a familiar clearing. It was the start; there just a few feet ahead was the thick gleaming post they had all scaled their way down except one unfortunate. The blonde haired boy balked and paled when he almost stepped onto the foot of the first victim of the games, Gavin Hunter. The thirteen-year-old was stiff in death, his blood now a dry, brown pool beneath his skull and misshapen neck, his skin was pallid and odorous and strange flies of various sizes were buzzing eagerly about his body. When a maggot wriggled out of his right nostril Sparky let out a cry of disgust and stumbled back in alarm, unwittingly stumbling over a clump of tangled grass and falling hard on his rear.

For a moment the District 3 tribute was frozen in shock before he snapped back to his surroundings and forced himself to look about quietly. Had someone heard his cry? Had he foolishly compromised himself? It did not seem so. He dared to suck in a shallow breath before pushing himself upright; this was no place to rest. He walked on, giving the corpse a wide berth, heading to the opposite side of the post and into another cluster of trees. Exhausted, he finally collapsed at the base of a thick tree, wishing he had the squirrel girl's ability to climb trees. He was vulnerable down here but even more so out in the open, at least the trees gave him cover. 'Don't sleep,' he ordered himself, 'just rest.'

As safe as he would ever feel in the arena, the blonde allowed himself to think just briefly about something other than the game. He recalled his family, a ragtag collection of engineers, everyone either working in one of the factories or expected to. He had been training in engineering at school before this, it had bored him, it was too simple, too easy, and he had wanted a challenge. 'And now I have one,' he thought bitterly. If the Hunger Game was just about mental capability he would be the winner, no question, but it was about physical ability, and outdoor skills, one had to be athletic, a hunter by nature, tough and strong. Alright, so there were many in here no better at any of that than him but he could tell than some possessed at least one if not more of those strengths. The male from District 10 was tall, tough looking and good with weapons during the training, Sparky suspected he had slaughtered in the livestock district making him experienced with killing too, the female from District 8 was fast and cunning, the male from 2 strong, and the male from 7 had muscles and potentially was a good climber if that was a common trait in the lumber district. It was the males that worried Sparky, particularly the pair from 1 and 2, they were a team and he wondered if they had been responsible for any of the deaths so far. 'Did they kill that girl?' he wondered. 'Ruthless to murder one so young but ruthless is what we have to be.'

'I have to wait them out, the stronger ones anyway,' he thought to himself, 'be sneaky and subtle. I need to find the weaker ones and kill them before they kill me, it's the only way to get attention for myself and sponsors, if I just wait and hide I might die of hunger, pathetic and not very entertaining but those pricks in the Capitol might just let it happen anyway. I'm smart, I need to use that.' He allowed him to rest for an hour before forcing himself to his feet again and beginning another trek.

The blonde tried to move quietly but he was unused to forests and unaware of twigs and leaves beneath his feet until he had already stepped on them and betrayed his presence. At every noise he flinched, sometimes even paused, fearful of other Tributes or mutts, he had no way of knowing who or what was out there or how close they might be. It put him on edge and had him clutching his crossbow so tightly his knuckles had turned white. What if squirrel girl was tracking him for revenge? Had he injured her badly or merely grazed her? She had moved so quickly that he did not think she was grievously harmed but what if it had been simply shock pushing her on? He hoped she was at least hindered enough not to pursue him if nothing else.

"We shouldn't have the bodies lying there," Gaius commented with a grimace as Gavin Hunter's corpse loomed onto the screen.

Quinn shrugged carelessly and asked, "why not? It's dramatic."

"And disrespectful," Gaius muttered in a half-hearted protest. The middle aged man did not want to fight with Quinn but he did not want her thinking him weak either.

Quinn turned a sharp eyed suspicious look his way and quipped, "to who? To the traitors? Remember they revolted Gaius, they murdered our soldiers; put the world into bloody chaos."

"It is disturbing," Titus commented coolly as he turned his gaze from the screen at last to eye the bickering pair. They were in the game quarters with ten other Game makers, planning their next moves, organising the deposit of gifts from sponsors, mutt attacks and editing footage. "For the next games the bodies will be removed, people see them die, it's enough, they don't need to see what they become or we risk another revolt," the Head Gamemaker remarked sternly. "We want this to be entertaining, it's a game, take it too far and people will think a revolt is better than seeing just a few of them killed."

Quinn sighed. "Well we can't remove them now," she retorted in annoyance.

"No but next time," Titus murmured as he eyed the large screen that was split into twenty-four smaller ones that flickered from one camera to another trying to catch the action. Initially each screen had been focused on a tribute but now with four gone, four screens now played favouritism, trying to highlight the action. Currently two of the four were on Thorn, Crystal, Rudy and Sukie, one was on Bartley and Cadence, and one was on Basil and Silver. The pair from 4 were still together as were the ones from 1 and 2, though it did not look like Crystal Mirrors would last much longer. Surprisingly the girl from 8, Cadence Martez, continued to allow the male tribute from 8 to tag along with her, though Titus suspected she would rid herself of him when he ceased to be useful. Most of them were getting hungry and thirsty now, needs that he hoped would drive them to more reckless actions, a need to survive, a need to end the games if only for nutrition. The bread the ones from 1 and 2 had received would not last through the day; those kids had no clue how to ration and would expect more because they considered themselves entertaining.

"Don't show the corpse to our audience," Titus commanded calmly, "just Sparky Windles' attempt to kill Jasmine Dark."

Gaius nodded obediently whilst Quinn rolled her eyes in disapproval. 'He knows all their names,' she thought in disgust, 'he's growing attached, the emotional fool. He's too young and far too soft for his job,' she thought hatefully, 'I hope the President sees it and considers someone else for the next Games.'

"The ones from 2 and 1 have the medicine," Gaius said as he glanced up at Titus.

Titus nodded. "Let's see them," he ordered.

After two hours of fleeing through the trees, Jasmine was forced to halt as her wound was burning and the trees were growing thin and coming to an end, giving way to a suspicious looking bog area where Swift Brenhart's corpse lingered out of Jasmine's vision. She pushed her hair back over her shoulder, sat down a thick branch and studied her injured shoulder. She gritted her teeth and yanked out the arrow swiftly, cursing at the pain. The blood came out quickly but it was thin, her attacker had not struck a major artery. 'Now I just have to hope this isn't poisonous,' she thought as she eyed the bloodied arrow tip with scorn. 'I bet my parents are yelling at the screen right now, cursing me for my ineptness.'

She used the tip of the arrow to awkwardly sever off a strip of cloth from her thin, black coat to use as a bandage, piercing two holes and pushing a twig through it to hold the cloth together around her wound. It was fragile and clumsy at best but better than nothing. The wound certainly stung but she did not think it would be fatal. She cleaned the arrow with some leaves before binding its point up in leaves and hanging it point down through her belt, she reasoned it could come in handy given she had no other weapon.

Now that the wound was tended her next problem was where to go. 'Well after rest,' she thought grudgingly as she lay down with her back against the trunk of the tree. Her stomach let out a growl and she frowned, when had she last eaten? What had she last eaten? The thought of food conjured images of the banquet they had received in the District Tower, foods she had never even heard of never mind tasted. There had sweet and salted meats, sugared fruits, spiced and honeyed vegetables and so many different desserts she had almost made herself sick trying to sample them all. Her dry mouth began to water at the thought and she closed one eye and tried to think of something else. Being picked for The Hunger Games was a surprise to every tribute except volunteer Basil but for Jasmine and Chuck it had been an even greater and crueller surprise as they had thought themselves safe, the Tributes already reaped from their district. The process had been so quick neither Jasmine nor Chuck had been permitted time to say farewell to relatives and friends, they had been reaped and bundled into a train immediately to make it in time to the Capitol for the parade.

The fifteen-year-old had been in too much shock to contemplate that she might never see her family or friends again but now she began to realise how much of a possibility that was. 'I never even got to say goodbye,' she thought bitterly, 'I bet the other Tributes were at least allowed to do that, except Chuck of course. He's an only child, if he dies in here his parents don't have any other kids to help them or console them. My parents have five of us at least, I wonder if that will ease the pain if I meet my end in here?' She clenched her fists determinedly and thought, 'I can win this. We're down to twenty now, the more that die the greater my odds of survival. I just need to find some food and water and keep to the trees if I can.'

She allowed herself to rest for an hour, taking care to listen and look out for potential attackers, before rising to continue on at last. She continued along on the trees on the edge, taking care to avoid the swamp, which had some trees, though they were low down, thin and dead looking, hardly ideal for shelter.

Tired, hungry and frustrated, when the trees began to thin again she misjudged a gap and fell with a squeal and a grunt to the ground, bruising and bumping herself in several places. She rolled over with a wince; trying to rouse herself though her vision was red, her elbows burned and her legs were tingling. 'Stupid, stupid,' she scorned herself as she let out a gasp of pain. 'Argh if this is going out live I'm sure mum's cursing at the screen right now, what a foolish thing to do!' She made it up to a sitting position and began to feel her legs carefully with both hands. There appeared to be no broken bones, just bruising.

For a moment she was still, biting back a further cry of pain as she tried to listen. Had anyone or anything heard her blunder? She tensed up, there were the faint birdcalls, buzzing and rustling that had haunted her for the better part of the day, animals or mutts hiding amongst the trees somewhere, perhaps just getting on with their lives or perhaps waiting to strike. She swallowed hard, and told herself she was in luck, no one was nearby. She stood upright with another wince and started walking, taking care where she stepped, trying to move quickly but quietly. Her lips were beginning to crack and she licked them into an attempt to soothe them. How much longer before she found water or food? 'Is there even any in here?' she wondered doubtfully. 'What if it's something we can only earn? That escort, he said something about earning sponsors, impressing them for gifts. Is that what I have to do then?' She swallowed hard and pondered dryly if there were people watching, really considering that bread was worth the same value as a person's life.

The fifteen-year-old wanted to get back into the safety of the trees but accepted that unless she wanted to go in circles she had to take a chance and risk travelling on foot. So, with reluctance, she continued along the ground, a mixture of soft dirt and wilting, green grass with small clusters of weeds and ugly flowers. Occasionally there were thick vines littering the ground or bound about thick trunks, spiky bushes with poisonous looking barbs and the odd tall one with soft, green leaves and bright, colourful flowers. The District 7 girl saw no fruit or nuts however, much to her chagrin.

She walked until her legs threatened to give way, assuring her that they could carry her no further. Then she was forced to sit again, resting on a soft patch of grass, too exposed for her liking. She had come to a clearing, there were a few trees scattered about, all of them thick trunked and lacking low down branches for her to scale up, longer, thicker strands of grass amongst which stones and vines found shelter, and small patches of soggy dirt that gave her hope that water had to be near.

Jasmine was jerked out of her weariness by the soft sound of footsteps hastening towards her. She looked up too late and was forced to fall to the left to avoid the jagged looking stick. It narrowly missed embedding itself in her already wounded shoulder and instead struck the trunk behind her sending splinters scattering through the air.

Her exhaustion forgotten, Jasmine moved to her feet quickly, forcing herself to jump to avoid another blow as the stick was swung again. She was not swift enough however and it slammed painfully into her side, causing her to double over with a scream.

The hungry, wild eyed Mallory Banks pulled the stick back again, raising it as she prepared to give out a more deadly blow. Her knees were bare and cut, her right cheek bruised, and her lips bloodied, she had been chased by bear like mutts, wounded by one's claws along her back, she had been unable to sleep due to the sounds in the night, and she had wandered in despair and rage, desperate for sleep, food and peace. Now she had finally found an opponent, a chance to win a victory, to gain food, to gain attention and to gain a foothold on the ladder to winning the Game.

Jasmine dodged to the right, turned and ran. Mallory was taller but skinnier, physically the fifteen-year-old thought she could take her but not without a weapon. Mallory's own might be crude but it was better than nothing and capable of murder even in clumsy hands. Jasmine prayed she was quicker on foot as she heard Mallory begin a pursuit.

The dark skinned beauty from District 11 had been near when Jasmine had taken her tumble from the trees. She had wanted to rush her then but did not have a weapon, looking about hastily whilst the girl recovered; she had found the branch lying on the ground. Whether intentional or coincidental she did not know or care, she had seized it and began hunting the younger girl as she had started to move, waiting for a chance to attack.

Jasmine was starting to put a decent distant between them, though Mallory had longer legs the stick had her off balance and she could not swing her arms properly to aid her running, and Jasmine had an extraordinary speed about her, probably from continuously scurrying about trees, forced to be speedy to dodge ones falling. Mallory let out a curse as the girl zigzagged in an attempt to confuse her, and she was forced to dodge vines, bushes, stones and trees.

Jasmine was going back on her earlier plan and trying to head for the trees, all she needed was one with low enough branches and she would be safe. 'That girl is from District 11,' she reminded herself worriedly, 'that's the orchard district; she might have as much experience as me with trees!' Still, she had to take a chance; the girl would have to surrender her weapon to climb fast enough to keep up with Jasmine, which would put them on a more even standing surely.

Mallory cursed as she stumbled over a stone and only just managed to stay upright. It was over, the younger girl would get away now, she had the advantage. Still she tried to keep up the hunt, she was eager for death, desperate to make a kill and get noticed. Out there no one had truly noticed her, yes she had looks but that mattered little in a district where starvation and death was so terribly common, even in the Capitol it had not served, not with the likes of Cadence, Silver and Crystal to compete with, particularly Crystal and Silver who had not been cursed with a bony, starved looking structure. They did not know what it was to suffer, she refused to believe it, well now they would, all of them, she would be the winner, she deserved it, she was the only one who did.

Jasmine let out a shriek as something snagged her right foot and she slammed face first into the ground. Before she could react she was jerked back suddenly, pulled so fast along the ground her bare skin was immediately burned and her clothes ripped. She tried to turn over and succeeded in rolling onto her back, her head bumped along the ground painfully causing her eyes to water as she tried to see what was going on.

Mallory heard the scream and it excited her, strange to feel such a sensation at the sound of a human being in peril and yet there it was, a warm, electric rush charging up her, urging her to keep going. She moved through the trees, pausing suddenly when she saw something move. Her brown eyes widened slightly as she tried to take it in, it took her attention from the danger beside her and too late she realised that her own legs had been ensnared. She screamed as something cold and green wrapped tightly around her limbs, binding them together and pulling her off her feet. Her chin slammed into the ground causing her to bite her tongue and fill her mouth with blood before she found herself pulled into the air upside down.

The dark haired sixteen-year-old let out an angry cry before swinging her stick at the visible green body. It slammed into it hard but did nothing to aid her. 'Is that one of the vines?' she wondered dumbly before she turned the stick in her hands, ready to stab it this time.

Jasmine screamed again, this time louder as she found herself dangled above an open mouth full of glittering, pointed, white teeth. The vine started to release her, preparing to drop her towards the teeth, but she swung herself in before it could, wrapping her arms about its cool, pulsing body. Her leg was freed and she fell downwards, turning upright and sliding down, holding onto to the body as tightly as she could, despite the pain it caused her shoulder. She tried to tighten her grasp and slow her fall as she saw the mouth coming to her. It darted forward suddenly and she closed her eyes and let go with another scream as she felt its hot breath surround her before it snapped.

There was a loud, reptilian hiss of pain as the mutt bit itself and Jasmine slid onto the ground gracelessly with a battered roll just as Mallory stabbed her stick deep into another's thick body, causing it to shriek in high pitched pain. She was released to crash into the ground hard, causing her nose to bleed, her head to spin and new bruises to well up on her skin. She pushed herself up onto her knees, spat out a mouthful of blood and tried to stand as the ground seemed to shift beneath her.

Jasmine made it upright first and just managed to spy the wild, dark skinned girl through thick, vine like bodies now thrashing in pain. Without hesitation, she turned and fled, forcing her exhausted and aching body to move as swiftly as it could and take her to safety.

Mallory stumbled, just managing to duck under a hissing head and around a twitching tail. 'Snakes,' she thought as she shook her head, trying to rid herself of the dizziness, 'snake mutts.' She wiped some of the blood from her chin with one hand before continuing to stagger to safety, unable to run. She knew her prey had escaped; she would have to find someone else, and hopefully a better weapon. First though, she needed to get away from the mutts before they noticed her. So with effort she forced herself to move, putting a distance between herself and the creatures.


End file.
